


Sincerely, Yours

by Reioka



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Steve, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, Letters, M/M, Mail Order Brides, Omega Tony, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: Tony has two choices--marry Ezekiel and have access to his fortune while forever being under Obadiah's thumb, or leave his fortune and property behind to marry who he wants. With the support of his friends, he decides he'd rather have the choice of freedom.He hopes the alpha he chooses is nice.





	1. Chapter 1

  **An alpha bachelor of ability, good moral character, 31 years of age, born and reared in the East but home made in the West, desires to correspond with kind omega, object matrimony.**

 

Ana hummed thoughtfully. Her niece was still looking for marriageable alphas. This was a very simple and plain ad, but… sometimes simple and plain was better than ostentatious. Besides, only a letter would truly tell. It was probably expensive to put these ads in the paper, especially as far east as the alpha had. She clipped the ad out and put it in an envelope with all the others that she would send on later.

 

“Ana,” Edwin said, scolding. “Don’t destroy the paper before Anthony gets to read it!”

 

“He never reads the personal pages,” Ana insisted, but obediently shut the paper again. “Besides, I doubt he’ll care, since he had such a late night last night, sneaking out to see a lawyer.”

 

Edwin’s face went tight and unhappy, and he turned back to the stove, knuckles going white from gripping his spatula so hard.

 

Ana frowned. Edwin didn’t usually snap about her cutting personal ads out of the paper, nor did he usually turn his back on her when he was obviously upset. She stood up and walked over to gently place her hands on his tense shoulders. “Not good news, then?”

 

“No,” Edwin said softly, sounding so defeated.

 

Ana slid her hands from his shoulders down to his biceps and gently placed her head on his shoulder with a sad sigh. “I’m sorry, Edwin.”

 

“Not as sorry as I,” Edwin answered quietly.

 

Ana squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated, but said nothing; she knew that her husband was feeling the same way.

 

.-.-.-.

 

When his parents had died, Tony had _expected_ Obadiah to take over his finances. It made sense; his parents had had a lot of stocks and bonds, and Obadiah had the business savvy to take care of his interests. Tony would continue living in his parents’ mansion, and Obadiah would take care of his money until he found a suitable spouse. Jarvis, of course, had stayed on to take care of him--Obadiah couldn’t be expected to do _that_ part. He was not that kind of beta.

 

Instead, he was the kind of beta who invested Tony’s fortune without discussing it, who paid Tony’s bills but gave him pittance for an allowance, and who thought it was appropriate to keep throwing his ne'er-do-well alpha son at him. Ezekiel wouldn’t know how to keep his hands to himself if his life depended on it, and Tony was raised just properly enough that he could only brush him off. Good omegas didn’t curse, or fight, or make a scene. Especially when the father of the alpha harassing them had control of their finances.

 

Tony was getting really tired of Ezekiel pinching him. It was bad enough that Ezekiel couldn’t keep up with him in discussions of things like cars or chemistry or politics, but Ezekiel had no ambition. He didn’t want to work toward anything; he just wanted to be catered to. Tony was becoming increasingly aware that as long as Obadiah continued to provide funds for Ezekiel’s shiftless lifestyle, he would do anything Obadiah asked as his everwilling, comfortable pawn.

 

Like courting him aggressively even after Tony had asked him to stop.

 

Tony curled his hands into fists, staring down at his lap. If only he’d known before what was going to happen, he could have requested Jarvis be the guardian of his finances. But Obadiah had been clever, had waited until he had complete control and was personally enmeshed in the business dealings he’d been doing with Tony’s money, to show his true colors. Tony had been a fool.

 

He comforted himself knowing that Howard, who had been _born_ naturally suspicious, had been fooled, too.

 

Tony looked up when he heard a knock on the door, managing a soft ‘come in.’ He knew he was too overwhelmed to do more, too likely to crack and burst into fresh tears if he said anything more.

 

Jarvis poked his head in, expression soft. “Will you be eating breakfast up here, sir, or would you like it in the dining room?”

 

Tony twisted his bracelet around his wrist, frowning. It had been one of his mother’s, a gold bangle with a trio of pink pearls on it. He stared at his bracelet for a long moment before he looked up and said, “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

 

“Very well,” Jarvis acknowledged. “We’ll be waiting in the kitchen for you.”

 

“Okay.” Tony turned and looked into the mirror of his vanity, at his sharp jaw and cheekbones, the long lashes over dark eyes. He’d taken after Howard a lot. He wished he could have taken after him in orientation, too.

 

Every lawyer he’d been to was either too afraid to go against Obadiah or had told him that legally there was nothing they could do--Obadiah was his guardian, and as such legally had control of his fortune. If he was mismanaging it, they’d be able to do something, but from what they saw, he was just investing money into sure ventures just like Howard had always done. Tony could find no way to get proof of Obadiah’s underhanded business dealings safely, and his money was all tied up in places he wasn’t even certain about, so there was nothing to be done; Obadiah would continue to be his guardian, and in doing so would continue to selfishly keep his money under the guise of ‘taking care of it’ when he really only meant to blackmail Tony into marrying his son, and Tony could only watch helplessly.

 

He was maybe, possibly beginning to feel a little hopeless about it all.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Jarvis made tea instead of coffee for him. Tony didn’t say anything, because clearly the man was just as upset as he was. He probably should have waited until he had some privacy to cry; crying in front of Jarvis was probably all the answer he needed for the unasked question of ‘is there anything to be done?’

 

He should have asked for Jarvis to be his guardian. Jarvis knew him, knew what he was thinking and feeling, without even having to say a word. Jarvis was better to him than even his own father had been.

 

Ana helpfully dropped a spoonful of honey into his cup. She knew that Tony didn’t like tea but could stand it with a touch of honey.

 

They ate in silence, and it wasn’t awkward, but… it was tense. Tony was mulling over his remaining options (frighteningly few, and most of them dramatic), and Jarvis was cutting his bacon, eggs, and toast into teeny tiny pieces and chewing on them way too long for what he’d cut them down to. Ana let them sit in silence, instead writing a few extra groceries onto her list--honey, first and foremost, because her husband would probably continue to make Tony tea, and Tony would continue to love her husband too much to say anything about it.

 

“I’m going to Janet’s today,” Tony said suddenly, making the two betas jump.

 

He hadn’t been planning on it, but he was feeling low, and Jan had always been able to take his mind of things when he was feeling too overwhelmed about them. Besides… she was really the only other person outside of Jarvis and Ana that would sympathize with him instead of chiding him for not trusting his guardian more. Jan had been begging him to come over to try on some of the new suits she’d designed, anyway.

 

“Will you need a driver today, sir?” Jarvis asked, trying to pretend he wasn’t glancing at his wife in concern and failing miserably..

 

“I can drive myself,” Ana scoffed, glaring at him.

 

Jarvis frowned at her, looking simultaneously amused and disappointed. “That’s the problem. You _can_ drive yourself. But you always do it so fast.”

 

“It wouldn’t be a problem if Americans used kilometers like God intended,” Ana insisted.

 

Jarvis sighed and rolled his eyes, unable to help a smile as Tony tried to smother some reluctant giggles. “Please let me drive you, dear.”

 

“Well, alright,” Ana huffed. “But only because I need to go to several stores downtown and I hate driving downtown.”

 

“You only hate it because there’s so many people there that you _can’t_ speed,” Tony pointed out, and laughed when Ana pursed her lips at him severely.

 

Ana continued to frown at him until she lost the battle to keep a straight face in response to his giggling, instead smiling wryly as both Tony and Jarvis finally relaxed, even if it was only a little. “Have fun at Ms. Van Dyne’s, Tony.”

 

Tony smiled at her. “Oh, I will.”

 

His life might be in shambles right now, but Jan always made him feel better.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Why that slimy, miserable old miser!” Jan seethed, stomping the length of her room and back again. “That stupid old baboon! That--that _cad!_ ”

 

“Yes,” Tony agreed, turning in front of her full length mirror to examine how he looked in the sharp jacket she’d designed in apple green. Not a great color on him, he lamented, but the shape of the jacket was superb.

 

“I can’t believe that he’s allowed to get away with this! Can’t I have him murdered?!” Jan stopped, gasping, and covered her mouth. “ _Could_ I have him murdered?”

 

Tony entertained the idea for a moment before dropping it, sighing. He needed to be realistic. Even if having Jan murder him would solve a lot of his problems, it would just cause a bunch of new ones. For both of them. “No, you can’t have him murdered.”

 

“Ugh! It’s so unfair!” Jan exclaimed angrily, then stomped over and whipped the jacket off of him, throwing another one into his arms. “Ew, no, this is all wrong. Here, try this one!”

 

Tony frowned, thumbs rubbing over the fabric. The cut wasn’t the same, but it was a deep indigo color. Maybe that would look better on him. He turned to face the mirror and began to put it on.

 

“No I hate that too,” Jan snapped before he could even put one arm through a sleeve, snatching it from his hands and stomping away to throw them both in a basket. She gripped her hands into fists, then gave the basket a kick for good measure, too, knocking it over and sending all of the clothes in it onto the ground.

 

“Jan!” Tony exclaimed, frowning, and took a step toward her. He hadn’t seen her this angry in a long time. He hoped he remembered what to do to calm her down.

 

Jan sniffled and turned toward him, eyes full of angry tears. “I can’t help it. You shouldn’t be dealing with this. Your options shouldn’t be ‘marry Ezekiel or become a pauper.’ It’s not fair! It’s not!”

 

“I know,” Tony whispered, reaching out for her, and she came into his arms immediately, burying her face in his chest to sob into it. “I know.”

 

“I wish I was an alpha for you,” Jan whispered helplessly. “Or that I could use my money to help you. But I can’t. My father already told me not to get involved, that it would just make things worse for you.”

 

“It would,” Tony admitted, burying his face into her soft, clean hair. He took a deep breath and let it back out in a sigh, because how often growing up had he looked at Jan and thought the same thing, that he was an alpha and she didn’t have to put up with everything that she did? He wondered if it was the same for everyone that was born an omega.  “It would. I’m sorry, Jan.”

 

Jan leaned back to sniff and frowned up at him, brows furrowed together as she whispered, “I’m so angry that this is happening to you, Tony, and there’s nothing any of us can do.”

 

Tony smiled back sadly, wanting to cry with her, but… sometimes he felt like he’d cried all his tears out already. He’d been surprised he’d had tears left to cry the night before, when it had been nailed home how hopeless everything was. He really couldn’t get control of his money without marrying Ezekiel, and then it would technically be Ezekiel’s money to control, and Ezekiel would always fold to whatever his father wanted.

 

He could either suffer being married to Ezekiel and have at least a little access to his parents’ fortune, or he could suffer being without his fortune but not have to deal with a handsy alpha. Sometimes he wished he hadn’t been born into money--maybe then the decision wouldn’t be so hard.

 

Jan sniffed some more, than hurriedly wiped her eyes, jaw setting with determination. “Well,” she said sharply, full of vim and vinegar again. “If I can’t do anything to help you out of the position you’re in, I can at least make you look good while you figure it out yourself.”

 

“Jan,” Tony sighed, rolling his eyes, then yelped when she shoved him toward one of the changing screens set up in her room. “Jan!”

 

“Take that awful shirt off and try on this one,” she ordered, tossing a shirt over the screen at him.

 

Tony frowned, confused but knowing it would be futile to argue. He began unbuttoning his shirt, mumbling, “...You gave me this shirt last year…”

 

“That’s why it’s awful, honey,” Jan scoffed. “It’s _so_ last year and anyone worth their solitaires will know it. And here are some new slacks.”

 

“Red slacks?” Tony asked in disbelief. “And a yellow shirt? Come on, Jan, that’s just--just--”

 

“Wonderful, I know,” Jan cut in, flouncing back over to the rack of clothes she’d rolled out as soon as he’d come in. “And it’s _goldenrod_ , not yellow, you fashion neanderthal.”

 

Tony huffed but changed into the red slacks, too. “Listen, just because you want to single-handedly bring culture to America through fashion doesn’t mean I’m always going to be your stupid dress-up doll,” he complained, taking the matching red jacket she threw over at him and putting it on as well. “I can’t even pay you properly. Obadiah thinks it’s frivolous, and I honestly have so many other things to pay for with my allowance that I can’t feel guilty about this too--”

 

“I don’t want you to pay me,” Jan sighed, rolling her eyes, and shoved the changing screen aside. She ignored his embarrassed yelp and instead reached out to smooth his jacket over his shoulders, frowning thoughtfully as she tugged at the cuffs and then tucked a pocket square into his jacket that matched his shirt. “Go look at yourself and eat your words to me.”

 

Tony sighed and went to go look in her full length mirror again. “Jan, you know I don’t really like having oh well how do you do.” He turned, eyebrows raised in surprise, and hummed happily when he saw the way the fabric held him just right, making his shoulders look broader and his waist trimmer and--wow, his butt looked fantastic! “Jan, I love it!” he exclaimed, spinning toward her.

 

Jan smiled smugly. “Of course you do. I’m an artist.”

 

“You certainly are,” Tony agreed, looking over his shoulder into the mirror, then paused. Then he frowned, shoulders sagging, and whispered, “But I can’t wear this to parties.”

 

“What?!” Jan exclaimed, affronted, but then fell quickly concerned when she saw how truly miserable her friend was. She softened her voice to ask, “Why not?”

 

“Ezekiel, he--he’ll try to… touch me,” Tony admitted haltingly, wincing when Jan’s face began to turn red with anger. “I’ve been trying not to dress as nicely to try to discourage him. If I wear this, he… He’ll try to be sneaky about it, but… he’s not… very good at being sneaky.”

 

“If Ezekiel touches you at any party while you are wearing my clothes,” Jan said, voice devoid of all emotion. “I will cut off his hands and make him eat them.” She leaned in very close to Tony’s face and whispered, “And I will tell him that.”

 

Tony couldn’t help but shiver and be very, very glad that Jan had decided they were going to be best friends instead of worst enemies when they’d met as children.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Dinner was another quiet affair. Jarvis had tried to set the food out on the table but Tony still didn’t want to be alone, so he and Ana just quietly carried the food back into the kitchen to place it on the island and sit on the stools there. It felt better in the kitchen, more homey and intimate. Even his dinners in the dining room with his parents had always held some air of isolation.

 

Finally, though, Jarvis slammed his fork and knife onto the table, making Tony and Ana jump. “There has to be _something_ we could do.”

 

“Every lawyer I’ve met with has said I need a beta or alpha to control my money,” Tony murmured, setting his cutlery down as well and folding his hands in his lap. “They said I could have had guardianship written over to you when I was younger, but… now he’s so enmeshed with my finances that he could just say he lost most of it in business dealings. I was stupid not to keep track of my own money,” he spat, curling his hands into fists.

 

“Your parents had just very suddenly died, Anthony,” Jarvis cut in sharply. “I think we can all be forgiven for being distraught after their gruesome demises. Of course Obadiah would swoop in while we were hurting, telling us he’d take care of everything. The sneaky son of a--”

 

“Dear,” Ana cut in sharply.

 

Jarvis let out a snarl but ducked his head, gripping his hands into fists so tight that his nails cut into his palms. “There must be _something,_ ” he whispered angrily, and so, so helpless.

 

Tony reached out for one of his hands and stroked Jarvis’s knuckles gently with his thumbs, frowning, before leaning down to press his cheek to the beta’s hand. He felt it relax, ever so slightly, against his cheek.  “If there’s something to be done, I can’t find it, and I… I don’t know any other lawyers I could go to who wouldn’t go tattling to Obadiah. None that would be brave enough to stand against him. And if I don’t marry Ezekiel--”

 

“You will not marry Ezekiel,” Jarvis growled. “I will let you marry anyone else but him.”

 

“If only it was you who gets to make that choice,” Tony sniffed, smiling, eyes hot with tears. He swallowed thickly, turning his head to dry his eyes on his sleeve and managing a slightly upbeat, “And who would you let me marry, anyway? You’re even more protective than Father was.”

 

Jarvis tried not to sound bitter when he managed to laugh in return, but he missed the mark completely.

 

“...He would let you marry an alpha bachelor of ability,” Ana murmured, and then said, louder, “An alpha of ability.”

 

Jarvis looked up at her, frowning. “Ana, what are you talking about?”

 

“Hush, Edwin,” she said, getting up from her seat and hurrying over to the drawer where she kept her envelope for her niece. “You married me because you knew I was wild enough to smooth your square edges.” She pulled out the envelope and peeked inside it. There were at least a dozen ads in it, and she was certain she could find more if she looked hard enough with someone else in mind. “And I’ve got just the idea to get our sweet Anthony if not his money, then to safety.”

 

“Ana,” Tony said, sitting up, completely bewildered but hopeful. “What are you talking about?”

 

Ana slapped the envelope down in front of him. “I save these for my dear niece, back in Hungary,” she explained. “She’s expressed wanting to move to America and has asked for marriage ads to send letters to prospective husbands. We could find an alpha for you this way, too, dear.”

 

“An arranged marriage?” Tony asked skeptically, and pulled out the ads. He wrinkled his nose at some of the more pointed ads, but they didn’t seem… terrible. “Obadiah would never agree to this.”

 

“Obadiah doesn’t have to,” Ana said gleefully. “Getting an alpha’s permission isn’t as important out west as it is here. The pickings are slimmer, after all. And as long as you’re frank about how you’ll come with very little money, you won’t have much to worry about. Your husband will have a legal claim on you and it would be bad press if Obadiah forced you away from the husband that _you_ chose.” She smirked. “Remember, omegas and betas of high society still love romance, and won’t it be _romantic_ that the Stark heir abandoned all of his money for love?”

 

Tony frowned, brows furrowing together as he read through all of the ads. “I--I don’t know, Ana, this all seems so--so childish. It feels like running away.”

 

“Tony,” Ana said gently, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder. “Please, take it from me. It’s not childish to run away from what’s causing you harm.”

 

Tony flinched. He didn’t need reminding that Ana had fled from war and persecution. “Obadiah is no war,” he managed to say.

 

“Well, no,” Ana admitted. “But that doesn’t make your problems less, Anthony.”

 

“Obadiah is a war,” Jarvis cut in solemnly, making Tony shut his mouth against what he was about to say. When the omega looked up at him in confusion, he quietly explained, “He will wage a quiet war against you until you have no choice but to marry his son, Anthony. He will spin his web like a cunning little spider, pulling threads until you give in. Until you are only a husk of your former self, until you have no will left to fight, just to let things happen as they may.

 

“I don’t want that for you, Anthony. And neither would your parents.”

 

Tony fiddled with the ads again, shoulders hunching. There were so many things he wanted to say, but… none of it really mattered, did it? His parents were dead, and Obadiah had control of all of his money, and there was nothing he or Jarvis or Ana could do about it.

 

“You’ll have more of a choice with these than you’d ever have with Ezekiel, dear,” Ana whispered, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

 

Tony swallowed thickly. He wanted to stay in New York. He knew how New York worked, knew its people. But he would never be able to marry anyone but Ezekiel if he stayed, and he knew that too.

 

At least this way he had a choice.

 

Tony got up and went to the phone to call the switchboard. “Hello, Operator? I’d like to make a phone call to the Van Dyne residence. Yes, I’m looking to call Janet.”

 

Jarvis frowned. “Tony, what are you doing?”

 

Tony turned to look at him. “Well clearly I can’t have all the letters sent here. Someone would tell Obadiah about my influx of--”

 

 _“Hello? Tony? Are you alright?”_ Janet’s tinny voice asked, concerned.

 

Tony turned back to the mouthpiece of the phone. “Yes, I’m quite alright. Janet, I’m going to do something duplicitous and I need your help.”

 

_“I love duplicity. What do you need?”_

 

Tony laughed a little even though he also wanted to cry with gratitude over how unquestioningly and unwaveringly loyal his friend was. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her as a friend, but he was glad of it. “After discussing it with Jarvis and Ana, I’ve decided to leave my worldly possessions behind and move across the country.”

 

 _“That sounds so exciting! Do you need me to finance it? I’ll send you off in the best of style,”_ Jan began happily.

 

Tony’s heart warmed. She really was much too generous. “Actually, I was just going to ask to use your address as my return address for all of the letters that I’m going to send out in response to all of these marriage ads Ana has found for me.”

 

Jan was quiet for several minutes, so long that Tony frowned and was about to ask the operator if the line had been lost.

 

 _“A mail-order bride?! You?!”_ Jan burst out, and began to laugh.

 

Tony scowled. “What, you think I can’t do it?”

 

 _“I’m just imagining Ezekiel Stane’s dumb face when he finds out you had secret correspondence with a stranger and flounced off to go marry that person instead,”_ she laughed, snorting a little when she tried to stop. _“Oh Tony, Tony, can’t you just imagine it? He’s such an idiot but so full of himself--I can’t imagine a better slap in the face to him or his father. He’d probably make the same stupid face he did when I said I was dating Hank.”_

 

Tony remembered the exact expression she was talking about, when Ezekiel had been his slimy self and asked Jan out on a date even though he was supposed to be exclusively pursuing Tony, per his father’s orders. Janet never suffered fools and egotists, and he was both, so she was half as patient already. The dumbfounded look on his face when she’d said she was currently accepting the courtship of an _entomologist_ , of all people, had made every omega at the table flee to the bathroom to be able to laugh freely.

 

“So may I use your address?” Tony asked, because her glee seemed like an answer, but he didn’t want to put her in any trouble. “I don’t want Obadiah to get suspicious, and--”

 

 _“Darling, of course you can use my address,”_ Jan giggled. _“This is the best thing ever. Oh, I wish I’d be there to see Obadiah’s face when you left. He’ll turn puce. It would serve that horrid man right if he just keeled over and died from the shock.”_

 

Jan’s excitement was infectious, and Tony couldn’t help but start to look forward to the letters he’d hopefully receive. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders that he hadn’t even known was there. Perhaps, whether he’d realized it or not, he’d been preparing this whole time to suffer a marriage with Ezekiel, but hope that he didn’t have to was suddenly alive and fluttering in his chest.

 

“Thank you, Janet. I really appreciate it. I appreciate _you_ ,” Tony told her sincerely. He knew they were friends, and that Jan loved him, but he thought it was nice to tell her how much she meant to him sometimes.

 

Jan was quiet again before she whispered, _“Oh, Tony. I appreciate you too. Any alpha or beta would be lucky to have a sweet, kind, and generous omega like you.”_

 

Tony sniffed. “Thanks, Jan. I’ll see you tomorrow? After your date with Hank?”

 

 _“Oh, definitely,”_ she answered immediately, cutting through the thick feeling he’d been swimming in. _“I swear if he talks about ants one more time--”_

 

“You like that he likes ants,” Tony pointed out.

 

 _“Tony,”_ Jan said, and he could almost see her derisive stare. _“I do enjoy when he talks about his passion, but when he compares my beauty to an ant’s?!”_

 

“The highest of compliments from a man passionate about ants,” Tony answered affably.

 

 _“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD TAKE HIS SIDE IN THIS,”_ Jan roared, and Tony squeaked and hung up the phone immediately, giggling.

 

“One of these days she’s going to decide you’re not cute enough to forgive,” Jarvis said mildly. He began to eat again and carefully didn’t wince when he realized his food had gone cold.

 

Ana gave him a knowing smile and went back to her own supper, reaching out to give Tony a gentle pat on the back as he came back to his seat to eat.

 

“So, since I might be marrying one of these people,” Tony began thoughtfully, nibbling on a carrot from his salad. “Does that mean I should use my good stationery?”

 

Jarvis turned toward him sharply, sputtering, “You should always use your good stationery!”

 

“You could even add just a little dab of perfume to the letters to really get your potential beaus riled up,” Ana added.

 

“Ana!” Jarvis gasped, scandalized, as his wife began to laugh, then turned to Tony sharply. “You are not riling anybody up, young man!”

 

Tony laughed and then laughed harder when Jarvis tried to scold him some more.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony started work on his correspondence immediately after supper, because he had quite a lot of letters to write already and Ana had said she’d pick up a matrimony magazine when she went out the next day. He curled up under a blanket on the couch in the den, in front of the fire Jarvis had built. The large mansion had always seemed to have a chill upon it after his parents had died. It was warmer in here, with his family, where Jarvis was going over household accounts for Obadiah to pay (and padding what he could for extra spending money for Tony), and Ana was reading a pocket novel she’d picked up while grocery shopping.

 

Tony shoved down the hurt of remembering his father going over paperwork where Jarvis sat, and his mother reading Shakespeare where Ana sat, as he practiced his letters where he always sat. They were gone, and he missed them, and it hurt, but he wouldn’t let that taint the warm feelings he had for Jarvis and Ana now. Ana and Jarvis weren’t his parents, but they took care of him like their own son even though they technically didn’t have to. He would never forget that.

 

“How should I address them?” Tony wondered, tapping his bottom lip with his pen. “None of them have names.”

 

“Address them with ‘to whom it may concern’ and ask for their names,” Ana answered. “That’s what my niece does.”

 

“Does she get an awful lot of answers?” Tony asked, frowning. What if he didn’t get any responses at all?

 

“Hmm, always at least half of the letters she sends get answered,” Ana replied after some thought. “She’s also told me that she’s usually able to tell they won’t be a good match after a few letters, so she sends a letter telling them so, and she almost always gets a response thanking her for her time.”

 

“That sounds nice,” Tony admitted to himself quietly, and decided that if he didn’t get a husband out of this, at least he might get some friends. “How am I supposed to make myself look favorable though? ‘Omega with no money and no skills’ isn’t very attractive. I don’t want to seem like I’m hiding that from them.”

 

“You have skills,” Jarvis scoffed, offended on his behalf. “If nothing else, you could be a tutor. You know your maths quite handily, and reading and writing, and you keep up on what’s going on in the scientific world. You speak French beautifully.” He paused, thoughtful. “...If you can’t find a husband, perhaps you could find a job as a teacher. I’m sure Ms. Van Dyne wouldn’t mind spotting you some money to get out west.”

 

“Society omegas and betas might find that romantic, too,” Ana said thoughtfully. “Especially if Janet hammed it up a bit. ‘He was so passionate about teaching the children out west, how could I say no,’ or something like that.”

 

Tony nodded, pushing it to the back of his mind. He hated to ask Jan for anything, even though he knew she would willingly hand over anything he asked for. It made him feel like he was taking advantage of her, even though he knew that if the roles were reversed, he would give Jan anything she needed as well. He would try this first, without having to depend on her generosity. She’d always said he was stubborn and independent to a fault, so he was really only living up to her expectations by doing this.

 

‘I really hope this works,’ he thought, perhaps even prayed, as he put the nib of his pen to his stationery.

 

_To whom it may concern,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I saw your ad in the newspaper and thought perhaps we could strike up a correspondence to get to know each other, considering that ‘good moral character’ and ‘kindness,’ while good traits for both of us, are not quite the only traits necessary for a good marriage. If you’re agreeable, I would like to correspond with you to see what you are like as a person. If in the case you are agreeable, I would like to know your name, because ‘alpha’ could mean any number of people, and I would like to address you properly._

_My name is Tony, and I am twenty-six years of age. I enjoy reading, playing piano, and riding horses. My parents died in an accident when I was young, but I have dear family friends that have taken me in and treated me as their own son. I am skilled in mathematics, reading, and writing, and am also fluent in French, so I could perhaps make an income tutoring if you required me to work. Unfortunately I have very little money to my name currently. I hope you don’t find that a deterrent, but I can understand if it is._

_I’m not quite sure what else to say, so I will just add a few questions to perhaps help our correspondence start--where is your home? Are there towns nearby? What are your hobbies? I hope this isn’t asking too much, and that our correspondence is fruitful._

_With greatest respect,_

_Tony_


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Tony,_

_Yes, your letter did indeed find me well. I hope this letter finds you well also. I think correspondence is an excellent idea. As you said, good moral character and kindness alone are not a basis for marriage. Hopefully I’ll prove that there’s more to me than that. My full name is Steven Grant Rogers, but you can call me Steve._

_I’m thirty-one years old and also enjoy reading. It’s nice to come home after a long day riding around and just be able to sit and enjoy a good book. Unfortunately I don’t really have time for very many hobbies aside from reading and the occasional wood-carving. Life on the ranch is nice, but it does require hard work. I make just enough money to get by most years, sometimes even manage to make a little profit. I would certainly have enough to support you, though, so no need to worry about working._

_In answer to your questions, my ranch is just outside a small town named Timely, which is where I go for basic supplies. Larger cities are few days’ travel from here, but I make the trip to the nearest city at least once every couple months, if not more, and I would be sure to bring you along. The envelope says this came from New York, so I know you’d probably miss big cities quite a lot._

_Hoping to hear from you again,_

_Steve Rogers_

 

Tony pursed his lips, brows furrowed together. It hadn’t been an incredibly interesting letter. Some of the alphas he’d talked to had really tried to be engaging. (Some of them too engaging, and Jarvis had nearly fainted dead away when he read one of them.) This alpha, Steve, hadn’t really tried to engage further at all, just answered his questions. Would their marriage be like that, too, Tony putting forth all the effort and Steve doing as he was asked or told and nothing else? He couldn’t imagine a marriage like that. He was about to drop the letter in the ‘no’ pile but then noticed a postscript on the back of envelope, almost too small for him to have noticed.

 

 _Sorry,_  it said.  _I’m a better conversationalist in person, I promise._

 

Well, Tony sighed, frowning. He supposed that could be true. Jan had always pouted when Hank had sent her letters, because they weren’t composed nearly as well as hers had been, but alphas were not often taught to write letters outside of for business. ‘Not everyone has the privilege of going off to finishing school, Tony,’ Ana had said only a touch reproachfully after he’d wrinkled his nose at the first letter he’d read. Tony gave the letter another long look before tucking it back into the envelope and setting it aside in his ‘continued correspondence’ pile.

 

“This is so many letters,” he sighed, leaning his chin on his hand. His ‘no’ pile was woefully small.

 

Well… he supposed it was bigger than it actually was. After the first letter where Jarvis had gasped and clutched his chest, mortally offended, he’d shoved a bunch of the ones he’d opened and read in the wastebasket. He’d simply hissed like an angry cat as he shoved the letters down as far as he could.

 

Jan would probably rescue them. Tony and Jan kept sharing curious looks because Jarvis’s face was red not only with anger, but embarrassment, and Ana kept giggling even as she also put some of the letters she skimmed into the wastebasket as well. They were probably incredibly torid. Tony wouldn’t respond, but he definitely wanted to read them, and Jan would offer excellent commentary. She always did.

 

“Do you want me to bring any straggling letters by as they come, or would you prefer if I brought them all together again?” Jan asked, skimming another letter. She wrinkled her nose and set it in the ‘no’ pile.

 

Tony trusted her judgment and did not pick the letter up. Jan was good at reading people. “Obadiah might get suspicious of you coming around so much,” he said after some thought. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind separating them from the next batch though?”

 

“No trouble at all. I actually made a chart with all the names,” Jan admitted, blushing. “Sometimes when I’m getting really frustrated with a design, I organize your letters.”

 

“That’s adorable,” Tony told her seriously.

 

“You… trust the people who see this chart?” Jarvis asked after a moment. It pained him to distrust Jan, after everything she had done to help Tony, but they couldn’t risk this getting back to Obadiah. Who knew what he would do if he discovered what was happening.

 

Jan opened her mouth to scoff an ‘of course,’ then stopped, frowning thoughtfully. After a few minutes, she tried again, answering, “Only a couple of the maids have seen it, and Hank. Hank thinks what’s happening to Tony is a bunch of b–”

 

Jarvis cleared his throat loudly.

 

“–Boo,” Jan said, because even she was not brave enough to swear in front of Jarvis. “Hank thinks it’s a bunch of boo and if Tony can’t find someone to marry, he’s offered to write to some of his friends in California.”

 

Tony couldn’t help going a little teary eyed. He and Hank got along alright, but it was definitely one of those ‘he’s courting my friend’ and ‘he’s the friend of the omega I’m courting’ things. To know that he cared enough to offer this, when Obadiah could do so much to hurt him and his research… Even if he was only doing it because he cared for Jan, it was showing a lot of loyalty. He hoped that Jan hung onto Hank, because even though he was incredibly awkward in formal settings, he was proving how much he’d give for her if only to have the chance to love her.

 

“And I’ll speak to the maids,” Jan added, frowning. “Most of the gossip I overhear is how disgusting it is that Tony has to do this though, so I think they might understand.”

 

Tony couldn’t help but sag a little, both depressed and mortified. Even people who didn’t know him felt sorry for him.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony wasn’t enthused about Steve’s response, but he hadn’t been crass and he hadn’t shown any signs of being a bad person, so Tony decided to give him one more chance. One letter alone wasn’t enough to judge a man’s character, and after all, Ana had said that her niece had been able to decide how she felt about her suitors after a few letters. He decided Steve’s next response would be the deciding factor in whether to continue correspondence.

 

He might have, unfortunately, punished Steve a little with a fib for his less-than-stellar correspondence.

 

_Mr. Steven Rogers,_

_I appreciate your prompt reply. Your letter unfortunately found me a bit under the weather; there is a cold going around, but I’m on the tail-end of it now. During my convalescence, I was able to look up where Timely is. I must admit, it took some effort; it seems Timely is very small. How often do you end up going for supplies?_

_What is your ranch like? Do you farm as well, or is it only a ranch? What sort of livestock is it?_

_I do sincerely apologize for the briefness of this letter. I’m still feeling a bit fatigued from my illness. I hope you’re faring better than I did these past weeks._

_With kind regards,_

_Tony_

 

.-.-.-.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I’m very sorry to hear that my reply found you in ill health. I’m glad that you’re recovering, though, and hope the remaining days of illness pass quickly. I know how frustrating it is to be sick. I’m almost certain I spent more time in bed with various ailments as a child than I did outside playing. Luckily it sounds like your illness was nowhere near as frequent and horrible as I remember mine being._

_Timely started out as a very small town, yes, and I go at least once a week for supplies, but I’ll travel in more frequently for the town parties. It seems like there’s always something to celebrate in Timely. It’s grown bigger with the railroad coming through it, but it’s still little more than a depot where the train pauses for supplies. I live far enough away that I can’t see or hear the train when it goes by twice a day, see its smoke or steam, but I do hear its whistle every night as I fall asleep, when it’s quiet and still. I find it a comfort, knowing that it’s passing by like always, a steady presence wishing me goodnight. I know the city is loud and you’ll probably miss it, but I hope that you’ll find comfort in the whistle as well._

_I own a cattle ranch, though it’s not very big. I’m proud of my spread, though. My house used to be a one-room shack, and now it’s a beautiful two-story structure with lots of room in it. The kitchen even has a pump inside of it. I built almost all of it with my bare hands. There’s also a porch where, admittedly, I don’t get to rest often, but when I do, I get a beautiful view of the stars and rolling hills. I like to sketch them when I can. They’re not very good, but it gives me something to do while I sit and unwind with a glass of beer before bed. I’ve enclosed one of my drawings to show you what the view is like. I apologize for the poor quality, but it was the best one I could find._

_I don’t have time for farming, but if you’d like a garden plot to grow some vegetables in, I wouldn’t mind building one for you. I can’t say I would be much help with it. Ma always said I had a black thumb. I killed her marigolds. She didn’t even know it was possible to kill a marigold until I did it. Did you know it was possible to over-water a plant?_

_Well, the postmaster is giving me an antsy look. I’ve been trying not to fold this drawing too much and have failed miserably. I hope it gets to you in one piece._

_Feel better, Tony_

_Steve_

 

Tony trailed his fingers over the drawing lightly, mouth dropped open a little in awe. Steve thought that this was poor quality? Tony almost felt he was looking at a photograph. There were the rolling hills Steve had described, a moon hanging fat and heavy in the sky, stars dotted around it with little gleaming rays. He wondered if Steve had done the sketch by the moonlight. He must have. Tony couldn’t imagine anyone being able to do this from memory alone.

 

It was beautiful.

 

“You’re blushing,” Jan said, smirking, and when Tony ducked his head, mortified, she crowed again, “You’re bluuushing!”

 

“I am not,” Tony lied, covering his cheeks to hide how hot they were.

 

Jan snatched the paper once his hands were away from it, letting out a triumphant ‘ha!’ “Is it vulgar? Should we have let Mr. Jarvis read it first?!” she asked gleefully, smoothing the paper as Jarvis and Tony both squawked in affront for entirely different reasons. She looked down at it, grinning, but then her expression softened into something more awed and impressed. “Oh.”

 

“What is it?” Ana asked, and then scoffed and smacked her husband’s arm when he tried to grab for it. “If it was raunchy she wouldn’t be looking at it like that.”

 

“Ana!” Jarvis gasped, affronted.

 

“It’s a drawing,” Jan whispered, holding it out to them.

 

Tony squirmed in his seat and fought the childish urge to declare ‘it’s mine!’ and snatch it back. He was more mature than that–had been trained better than that. He couldn’t help feeling pleased when Ana and Jarvis looked impressed when they examined it too, though. He told himself it was irrational–this was his second letter from the alpha, and even though it was much better than the first, he had no claim on Steve. Steve had no claim on him. He shouldn’t feel pleased as if they were approving of an intended mate.

 

“It’s lovely,” Ana said knowingly, handing it back. “I’m sure he would be pleased if you asked for more drawings.”

 

“That–that would be greedy,” Tony answered weakly. “And rude! I don’t have the right to be so demanding. I–”

 

“Anthony,” Jarvis said gently, eyes soft, as he reached out for his hand. “I don’t think you understand how pleased it would make this alpha to provide something he made for you just because you said you liked it. In fact, I  _know_  he would be pleased if you asked for more drawings.”

 

Tony squirmed again. “You’re sure it wouldn’t be inappropriate?”

 

“When Edwin started courting me, he nearly tripped over himself when I said I liked his tea and promised that I would have it every morning once we married,” Ana explained, smiling when Jarvis blushed a little. “And he hasn’t let me go one morning without a cup of his delicious tea since. I’m sure this alpha would love to provide you with something that he’s skilled in.”

 

Tony frowned, smoothing the drawing again. It looked like Steve really had struggled to find a way to fold it. It didn’t detract from how beautiful the picture was, though.

 

“So is this alpha going in the ‘no’ pile?” Ana teased, because Tony might have, just possibly, complained about Steve’s poor letter ever since he’d received it. Tony squirmed but couldn’t come up with a snarky reply, which she deserved for her teasing.

 

Jarvis raised his eyebrows at him, playful smile curling at his lips as he began to put the envelope in the ‘no’ pile.

 

“Stop it,” Tony hissed, blushing, and snatched the envelope back.

 

“Oooh, Tony’s got a crush!” Jan squealed, clapping.

 

“I do not!” Tony exclaimed, glaring at her, and hoped his cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt.

 

“You’re glowing like a rose,” Jarvis said, and Ana politely covered her mouth to try and hide her giggling.

 

Tony glared down at his lap, bottom lip beginning to jut out in a pout as Jarvis and Jan began to laugh as well.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony kept the drawing on hand. He couldn’t stop looking at it. It was beautiful, and the scene it depicted was so incredibly charming. He wished he could frame it, but he was afraid someone would notice it and ask about it, and he felt uncomfortable making up a story for it–not when it was given to him with such sweet intentions.

 

Tony glanced at the drawing again as he readied his pen for another letter, feeling ever so slightly guilty for his fib in the last one, when he’d claimed to be under the weather to get out of having to be entirely polite. He’d just have to be extra sweet this time.

 

_Mr. Steven Rogers,_

_I’m much better now, thank you. It really lifted my spirits to receive your letter. I must admit, I wasn’t entirely enthused about making a home on the prairie, but your letter eased some of my nerves about it. I’m sorry to hear that you had poor health as a child. Hopefully that hasn’t followed you into adulthood. I imagine it must be hard to be ill when you have so much responsibility._

_Timely has a lot of parties? What are they like? Is there dancing? I love to dance. I always fill up my dance card when I go to parties here, even if it’s only with other omegas. I have to admit, hearing you wax so poetically about Timely and the train whistle that sings you to sleep each night was quite sweet. I felt like perhaps I could also come to love that train whistle and those rolling hills. You made it sound so peaceful and nice. I might miss the noise of the city, but perhaps I might like the quiet of the prairie just as well._

_I also must express how incredibly flattered and grateful I am for the drawing you sent me. You certainly sold yourself short when you said that it wasn’t very good! It’s not of poor quality at all! I’m amazed at how skilled you are with pencil and paper. At first I was very confused because I thought you’d sent me a daguerreotype by mistake! It’s beautiful and_ _~~if you wouldn’t mind~~  _ _~~if you have the time~~  _ _~~if you had other drawings you’re comfortable part~~  you should be proud of your work. Thank you for sharing it with me._

_Your house sounds lovely. I’m certain it’s something you should be proud of too. I can’t say I’d be any good with a garden, as I’ve never done any such work myself, but if you’re amenable, I wouldn’t mind trying. It will be good to do something and have a firm goal in mind as I do it. (It’s possible of course, that I’m also excited to get my hands dirty. I have never been allowed the option of getting my hands dirty before.) I might need your help to get started, though. Hopefully between the two of us we’ll be able to manage at least part of a green thumb._

_Now, pardon me if I sound ignorant, but you said you have a cattle ranch, and you’re proud of your spread? What exactly does a spread consist of? Is it all cows? I know you said it was small, but what does a modest spread consist of?_

_Reading that back, it looks embarrassingly obtuse, but I truly don’t know the answer to any of these questions. I hope you don’t judge me too harshly for not knowing. I would have a lot to learn, coming to your ranch. I hope you don’t mind teaching me._

_Kindest regards,_

_Tony_

 

.-.-.-.

 

When Jan brought the next batch of correspondence, Tony squirmed impatiently as she handed each of them a stack of envelopes to open. Tony flipped through his stack until he found a reply from Steve, dismayed when he didn’t find one. Had Steve lost interest? Had he been writing other omegas? Omegas who didn’t have so much to learn, who didn’t come with so much baggage? Omegas who, perhaps… might come with money?

 

Had he become suddenly unattractive as a prospect when he’d admitted he didn’t know anything about ranches?

 

“Honey,” Ana said, smiling at him in amusement, and passed a letter over to him.

 

Tony snatched it from her with trembling fingers and looked at the return address, shoulders falling in relief when he saw Steve’s name. He slit the envelope open quickly and pulled the letter out.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I’m glad to hear that you’re well again. Yes, I’m lucky enough that my childhood illness didn’t follow me to my adulthood. One time my best friend kept track of how sick I was on a calendar, and we found that I was ill almost half the year! I can’t imagine being that sick and running the ranch. To be quite honest, I’m lucky I didn’t die in childhood. I’m lucky I can even walk! I had polio and it kept me bedridden for… God, three months? Luckily my mother had a doctor friend who had an experimental treatment he was willing to try. I was sent to live with him, got better, and just… never left. Here I am, decades later, and it’s hard work, but I live for it._

_Timely sometimes feels like we’re all just one big family. Someone’s having a milestone birthday? Time to throw a party. Someone’s come of age? Let’s throw another party. Holiday parties, weddings with the whole town at the receptions, someone’s feeling bored and they want a shindig. There’s one at least once a month, and I try to get to all of them. There’s almost always dancing, but unfortunately I was never gifted with rhythmical feet. Luckily I know everyone in Timely, so I would have no problem if you wanted to let other people fill your dance card. I’d just want you to have fun, and I would be happy watching you do that with other people. It’s not as if someone would try to steal you away. So many people have tried setting me up with others they know, they’ll be happy I’ve finally found a mate. I’ve… never really felt that spark with any of the people I was set up with. Not like I feel it with you._

_Also, thank you for your kind words about my drawing. Perhaps I’m too much a perfectionist. I only ever seem to see what’s wrong instead of what I’ve done well. I’ve enclosed a few more drawings. The dog you see is named Lucky, and he belongs to the owner of the general store. He used to be mine, but a steer stepped on him, and he lost his leg, so I had to retire him. I drew the group of steer by the river on a long, hot summer day under a shady tree. Sometimes it’s nice to just sit and watch them. I used to read but one time I fell asleep and one of the_ _~~goddamn~~  steer ate half my book. I’m so sorry for that, Tony. That was rude._

_Well, I can set up a small garden, and if it works out, I can always enlarge it. If not… I’m sure we can do something with it. What, I have no clue. I’m sure there must be a plant somewhere that we could just stick in there and wouldn’t kill. If nothing else… grass? You can’t kill grass, right? Either way, you will definitely have the chance to get your hands dirty. And I don’t think your questions were obtuse or ignorant at all. You’ve admitted you know nothing and want to learn more about it. I find that very admirable. I hope you find my answers adequate._

_My spread consists of one hundred and fifty acres. It’s a modest size out here. There are a few larger outfits here but most of us are small, and actually band together to get our herds to sale. I admitted previously that I usually break even or make very little profit. Luckily that’s really all we need out here–if I can’t pay for something, I can barter for it. A side of beef will pay for a lot out here, and I usually keep a few back for myself. Of course, it’s not just cattle. I have horses, chickens, and a few mules, plus a few cattle dogs to help corral the herd. I also have a goat. She’s mean but she protects the chickens, so I kind of have to keep her, I guess._

_I’m gone most of the day, I’m ashamed to say. I have to make you aware of it, though. I have to move the herd to greener pastures, make sure there are no stragglers, take care of any injured animals. It’s long, hard, hot work, and sometimes I’m tired down to my bones when I get home. You’ll be on your own a lot. But I’ll make sure the house is comfortable for you. I own many books that you can peruse at your leisure, and if you find yourself needing more, I’ll send for some. I have a few decks of cards, and plenty of writing materials if you want to correspond with your friends back home. And if you have need of anything else, I hope you won’t hesitate to ask._

_I will endeavor to make sure you have everything you could possibly need while I’m gone, and hopefully my company will make it worth your wait, but I can understand if that would be too much for you. Being alone for so long… I know how hard that can be. But hopefully you’ll make some friends here, too. I wouldn’t mind if you entertained some while I was gone. I don’t want you to be lonely, and it would certainly ease my mind to know you weren’t alone all the time. Timely’s full of good people, and you seem like the kind of person who would make friends easily. I hope I’m not overstepping by saying that I hope you’ll be happy here. I hope you’ll be happy with me._

_Sincerely,_

_Steve_

 

Tony sat back in his seat, feeling a little shell-shocked.

 

“Tony?” Jarvis asked in concern, frowning.

 

“I need to be alone,” Tony answered immediately, and fled to the sounds of Jarvis, Ana, and Jan calling after him worriedly.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Jan eventually knocked on his door, and when she heard no answer, pushed it open and peeked inside. She frowned when she saw Tony curled up on his bed, letter clutched in his hand, other hand curled against his mouth. His hands were shaking. “Tony? Are you okay?”

 

“Everything is moving too quickly,” Tony whispered, knuckles white, then turned his head to hide his face in his pillow.

 

Jan waved Ana and Jarvis away before stepping inside and pulling the door shut behind her. While they could be sympathetic to some of the plights omegas faced, there were definitely things that betas could not totally understand. They could own property, control their money, and while some alphas thought themselves above them, betas could still retain the same legal standing that alphas did. They could wish that Tony and Jan could have that, but they’d never really understand how it felt, being so powerless.

 

Jan crawled onto the bed behind him, curled up against his back and pressed her forehead to the back of his neck. “Talk to me, honey,” she whispered, lifting one hand to pet his hair, the other curling in the back of his shirt.

 

“Everything is moving too quickly,” Tony repeated softly. “This is only Steve’s third letter to me and we’re planning our house, and he’s telling me what my day would be like, and what we’d do together, and what life on the ranch will be like for me. I don’t know anything about him, not really. How can I marry someone I don’t know?”

 

“How can Steve?” Jan replied quietly.

 

Tony was quiet for a few moments before he hesitantly asked, “What do you mean?”

 

“Darling, he doesn’t know anything about you either,” Jan sighed, using her nails to gently scratch over his scalp until he relaxed a little. “All he knows is that you’re an omega, and you have no money, but he doesn’t care about that–he’s just trying to give you all the facts that he can, so you can make an informed decision.”

 

“I guess… I guess it’s really only just now sinking in,” Tony admitted, finally loosening his grip on the letter. “That I’m going to marry one of these people. I’m going to leave my home, leave New York, everything I’ve ever known. And for what? A person I don’t even really know. A person I can’t even really know until I meet them face-to-face.”

 

“I think you know him better than you think you do,” Jan said, sitting up. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she leaned over him, smiling a little when he finally pulled his face from the pillow to frown up at her in confusion. “Come on. At least two of those letters were good.”

 

Tony was silent for a few minutes before he finally, quietly whispered, “I don’t even know his favorite color.”

 

Jan snorted, patting his shoulder fondly. “You may not know his favorite color or what he looks like, but you know he’s modest, and kind, and that he’ll provide for you. You know he’s a great artist, and he enjoys reading, and he’s a hopeless romantic. You know he’ll be kind to you. Think about all the things you know about him.”

 

Tony frowned as he thought about it, brows furrowing together, before his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles. “I know he’s a horrible conversationalist unless he’s talking about his ranch or the town nearby.”

 

“See? You know a lot about him,” Jan said, smiling. She stroked her fingers through his hair again, tilting her head. “Listen, Tony. You have the privilege that few of us will ever have–Steve doesn’t know you’re a Stark, or what that would even entail. He doesn’t know you’re an heir to a fortune, or that you’ve been financially abused by your guardian. He just reads your letters and knows you only as ‘Tony,’ a penniless omega willing to leave everything he knows behind to start a new life with someone he is willing to get to know after he marries.” Her smile went a bit sad around the edges, a little wistful and, perhaps, the tiniest bit jealous. “That’s a very attractive person to be.”

 

“Jan,” Tony whispered, then bit his knuckle nervously.

 

Jan looked down at him again, concerned, and said, “You know you can say anything to me, or ask me anything, and I won’t be upset.”

 

Tony nodded slightly. He knew that. He felt the same way for her. But sometimes he needed the comfort of being reminded. “Do you truly think I’m doing the right thing?”

 

To her credit, Jan didn’t answer immediately. She pursed her lips as she thought, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Tony let his eyes drift closed, enjoying the gentle attention, even though he felt a dull ache when he remembered that his mother had done the same thing, card her fingers through his hair when she was thinking. He missed her.

 

“I think,” Jan finally said slowly. “That this is the only option you have with the lot you’ve been given. Your father always decided no one was ever good enough for the Stark name, so you decided not to sign it in your correspondence. And Obadiah has taken your fortune, so you’ve had to learn to make do without it or marry a sorry excuse for an alpha. I think… I think this is your right thing. The only thing you can do to make your life yours. The only thing you can do to make yourself happy.” She smiled, but there were tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she did. “I think you should choose to be happy. You could be happy with this Steve. You could learn to love him. I don’t think you could learn to love Ezekiel Stane.”

 

Tony turned to look up at her, frowning. He reached out to cup her cheek, thumb coming up to brush the tears from her eye. “Don’t cry, Jan.”

 

“Someone has to cry for you, when you have no tears left to cry for yourself,” Jan told him, and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

Tony curled his hand behind her neck to draw her further down and press their foreheads together. “Thank you, Jan. For everything.”

 

Jan smiled, letting out a wet laugh. “So what are you going to do now?”

 

Tony sighed, leaning back to look at her. “I think I knew from the moment I started writing letters, I was going to make this choice eventually.”

 

“You’ve always been so brave,” Jan whispered, and leaned their heads together again. “I hope you’ll be happy, Tony.”

 

“Me too,” Tony whispered back.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony’s hand shook when he wrote back to Steve. It was a simple letter, almost rude in its bracing candor, but he didn’t have the nerve for flowery language and burying his question in niceties now. He’d apologize when Steve rote back to him. If Steve wrote back.

 

If Steve still wanted him now that Tony was making this real.

 

_Dear Steve,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_I’ve noticed that in all of our letters we’ve talked as if nuptials were a foregone conclusion, and I would like to ask for some clarification. What is it that you are looking for in a mate? What is it that you would expect from your omega, whoever that might turn out to be?_

_Kindest regards,_

_Tony_

 

Tony tucked the letter into an envelope, then paused. There was a possibility this could be his last letter to Steve that wasn’t a goodbye. It seemed so impersonal, even though its answer would be telling of whether or not a relationship could continue. Is this how he wanted what could possibly be his last letter to Steve to be? Just coldly impersonal, as if those previous letters hadn’t mattered? But he wanted to protect himself, too, in case what Steve answered was something he couldn’t offer him. He realized with a jolt that he’d started the letter with ‘dear’ instead of a more proper,  _appropriate_  address to an alpha he technically didn’t have ties to.

 

He pulled the letter back out and reached for a fresh piece of paper to start over again, then paused, nib hovering over the parchment. He stared at the blank sheet for a moment before pushing it aside and instead unfolding his original letter again. If anyone asked, his stationery was expensive and he couldn’t afford to waste an extra piece of paper just because he accidentally wrote ‘dear Steve’ instead of ‘Mr. Steve Rogers.’

 

He tried not to think about how Steve actually had become dear to him in such a short time, and how that might look to other people. Every time he thought about it, he remembered ‘this is too fast’ and ‘what if I seem too eager.’ He comforted himself with the knowledge that Steve had started it, with his ‘dear Tony’s and ‘sincerely’s. If nothing else, Steve would not be put off by that.

 

Tony paused in refolding the letter, then smoothed it back open, frowning. It really was so impersonal. He hoped Steve wouldn’t be offended. He really was just trying to protect himself. He was pretty sure that Steve would respect that. Steve seemed like the kind of alpha who would want someone to be safe and happy. Tony stared at the letter a little longer. Perhaps Jan was right. Maybe he did know Steve better than he thought.

 

Still, he grabbed the pen and added a postscript, just for a little peace of mind.

 

_P.S. Steve, what’s your favorite color?_


	3. Chapter 3

Jan dropped Steve’s reply directly into Tony’s hands, but he set it down onto the table, too frightened to open it, too afraid that Steve would expect something and Tony wouldn’t be able to live up to it. He wanted desperately for it to say ‘Dear Tony, I’m looking for you in a mate,’ but he knew that was childish. His life wasn’t a romance novel. This was real life, and real life was messy and difficult and… and had real consequences. Like being destitute or marrying a philanderer and his scummy father.

 

Instead he focused on mechanically opening the other letters, reading them, setting them aside in piles for continued correspondence or piles for sympathetic apologies saying ‘I feel we’re not a good match.’ There were plenty of other alphas and betas who were kind enough to him. He had options to fall back on.

 

Ana and Jan kept glancing at him worriedly, but Jarvis simply waited, quiet, a soothing presence, until finally he set down one of the letters he was reading and looked at Tony with soft eyes. “Anthony, putting it off isn’t doing you or your beau any good.”

 

Tony’s shoulders hunched, and he set his clasped hands in his lap to hide how much they were shaking. “What if what he wants is something I can’t give him?”

 

“Then you kindly tell him you can’t give him what he wants, and tell him you’d still like to be friends if that’s at all possible, and be understanding if he tells you ‘no,’” Jarvis replied, reaching out to place his hand on one of the omega’s shoulders. He gave a firm but gentle squeeze when he felt the fine tremors running through the younger man. “Sometimes even when you _do_ get to control things, you get hurt. That’s just life, Anthony. Don’t draw your suffering out.”

 

Tony looked up at him, opening his mouth to say something, but he had no idea what. He looked back down at Steve’s letter, closing his mouth, and reached out for it, taking it carefully in two hands. Such an unassuming piece of paper had no right to hold his future so precariously inside of it.

 

“Why don’t we give Anthony some privacy,” Ana suggested suddenly, making him jump.

 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Tony began, but Jan and Jarvis were already getting up out of their seats.

 

“We need wine,” Jan decided. “Mr. Jarvis, I know it’s early—”

 

“I’ll help you pick out a bottle,” Jarvis replied magnanimously, and ushered both she and his wife into the wine cellar.

 

“—go,” Tony finished lamely. He stared after them for a moment before returning his attention back to the letter Steve had sent him.

 

Well. He couldn’t put it off forever.

 

Tony took a deep breath before slitting the envelope open. He set the letter opener aside, fingers lingering on it, then shook himself. He had no reason to be afraid. Jarvis was right. Putting it off was doing himself no favors, and Steve deserved better. And he… _was_ curious. Even if he was scared.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I suppose we have been writing back and forth as if marriage was an inevitability. I guess I was just… so hopeful, since we hit it off so well. I really like you. I hope you return the sentiment. I suppose it’s high time that I told you my expectations for my bride. I probably should have done it sooner. I hope that you don’t find my expectations unfavorable. I’m also willing to compromise, if there’s something you know you’ll be unable to do._

_First and foremost, I expect companionship. While I do spend the day with my ranch hands, most of whom are my friends, once it’s time to wind down for the night, they go back to their families ~~and I’m left in my empty house~~. ~~I get very lonesome~~. It’s quiet, so I would like to have someone to come home to. ~~I’m almost certain that this solitude is killing me.~~ It’s lonely out here, late at night, with only the dogs ~~that mostly stay outside~~ for company. It would be nice to come home to someone, to have someone to talk to as I relax a little bit before going to bed, a fire and food already ready for me, instead of having to work that much harder at the end of an already long day._

_And of course I need that person to be my partner on the ranch. I’m not saying that I need someone to get on a horse and round up cattle with me ~~although the company would be nice~~! But I do need a partner who can pull their own weight. I need someone to do the laundry, and clean house, and cook. I’m gone most of the day, so I feel like it’s not too much to ask my partner to do that ~~,~~. ~~unless of course my partner was~~ It’s not as if the entire house needs to be cleaned every day. I don’t make a particularly large amount of laundry, so that doesn’t need to be done every day either. I feel like keeping house isn’t too much to ask for while I’m out on the range._

_~~And maybe we could talk about~~ ~~Maybe we could consider~~ ~~I was hoping we might~~ I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. I would like to discuss having children eventually. Now, I don’t mean to sound like I’m demanding someone ~~pop out kids for me~~ have children just because I want them to. But I think it would be ~~good~~ ~~reasonable~~ ~~honestly~~ nice to at least be able to discuss it. It’s not a deal breaker if my partner doesn’t want them, but… I’d like to at least discuss it. Of course, I don’t expect my bride to just fall into bed with me either! I have a separate room set up for when my bride comes. I don’t expect us to share a bed until we know each other and are comfortable with it. ~~Hell,~~ I don’t even have to touch you. Just having some ~~damn~~ company would be nice._

_Tony, I have to admit this now. I swear like a sailor. I’ll try hard not to. God knows I’ll try. But I’m pretty sure God knows I’ll fail too. My ma didn’t make me eat half the soap in the house for nothing, but getting kicked by an angry steer taught me new words for the ones that got washed out of my mouth, most of them worse. That first letter I sent to you was the result of several scrapped letters that were mostly inked out. I just don’t want you to be surprised if you decide to marry me._

_I hope you decide to marry me. I hope you don’t find me repulsive after this._

_Sincerely,_

_Steve_

 

Tony swallowed thickly as he began to fold the letter back up with fumbling fingers and couldn’t help his breath hitching in surprise when something came fluttering off the back of it. “Oh!” He hesitated, then picked up the scrap of paper, fingers trailing over the patch of creamy yellow, like a light smear of lemon chiffon cake. Steve’s looping, lazy scrawl was there, too.

 

_P.S. This is my favorite color. What’s yours?_

 

Tony brought his hand to his mouth, teeth biting into his knuckles. The little scrap of paper had no right to be so cute and unassuming after how heavy the letter had been. Being alone all day and considering children—he didn’t even know what Steve looked like. Maybe he was repulsive. Maybe he was small and had scars all over and one eye and what sort of alpha liked lemon chiffon yellow? Alphas should like red, or—or royal blue, or—not lemon chiffon!

 

 _A sweet alpha would like this yellow_ , a small, traitorous part of him whispered. Tony looked down at the scrap of paper and the paint on it again. Yeah. A sweet one.

 

Except he wasn’t sure he could even offer Steve the barest bones of what he was looking for in a mate.

 

“Anthony?” Jarvis called, peeking around the door.

 

Tony started to cry, and he hated himself for it. “Jarvis, what am I doing?”

 

Jarvis moved around the door immediately, coming over to kneel beside his chair and pull him into his arms. “You’re doing your best.”

 

Tony sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to the beta’s shirt. “I don’t even know how to cook, Jarvis! What do I _really_ have to offer him? What can I do?”

 

“Anthony,” Jarvis whispered into his hair. “You have _so_ much to offer. You’re clever, and kind, and resourceful. I’m sure you’d figure something out. But I’ll teach you, as much as I can before you leave. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

 

Ana and Jan tiptoed out from behind the cellar door as well, Ana holding a bottle of wine. Jan slipped over to the table and picked up the letter with gentle fingers. Ana left them to it, walking over to cut up some oranges, grapefruit, and apples to dump into a pitcher with the bottle of red wine.

 

Jarvis leaned back to brush a hand through Tony’s hair, frowning. “Do you need to go back to bed, Anthony?”

 

“No, I just,” Tony sniffed, and grabbed a napkin off the table to dab at his eyes. “I just—I was—I’m not going to be any good for him. I’m… I’m a society omega. What can I offer Steve?”

 

“Your nubile young body?” Jan suggested.

 

Tony choked on his tongue, but it couldn’t be heard over Jarvis’s screech of outrage. “JANET VAN DYNE!”

 

“We were all thinking it!” Jan exclaimed defensively. “Well. Everyone except you apparently.”

 

“Ms. Van Dyne, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Jarvis began.

 

Ana came over and pushed a glass of sangria into Jan’s hand. “Here, dear.”

 

“Ana!” Jarvis barked.

 

“Oh, Edwin, we were all thinking of it,” Ana scoffed. “Anthony is an attractive young omega.”

 

“Anthony wasn’t thinking it!” Jarvis exclaimed.

 

Tony cleared his throat and busied himself taking a sip of the drink Ana shoved at him as well. Oh good. She’d put bourbon in it too. He was going to get gloriously drunk before noon and then he’d be too ill to go to the party he was expected at. Anything to avoid Ezekiel, and it would have the added bonus of making him forget Steve’s letter.

 

Jarvis turned to look up at Tony in stony silence before he stood, shook himself off, and said, “ _I_ am going back to bed.”

 

“Edwin, don’t be such a stuffed shirt,” Ana teased, but Jarvis began walking for the door. “Honey! Please be reasonable!”

 

“I am being quite reasonable,” Jarvis said. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon on the way out.

 

Ana stared after him, lips pursed, before tipping her head back for a long slug of her wine. “The old spoilsport never did care for crassness, even from me.”

 

“I’ll apologize later,” Jan replied dismissively. She sat at the table and reached out to take Tony’s hand. It was still shaking a little. “Tony,” she said softly, eyes going soft and dewy. “Take some time to yourself with this. Just think about it really carefully, alright? Are you upset because you’re seeing you could never make it out west, or… because you’re scared you could do better out there than you ever could here?”

 

Tony looked at her, mouth opening and closing uselessly, before he threw back the rest of his glass of punch.

 

Ana sat down at the table as well, reaching out to refill his glass with the pitcher. “You don’t have to send back a response immediately,” she reminded him gently. “Janet is right. Take some time and just think about it, Anthony. Answer some other letters. Read the newspaper. Take a walk in the gardens. I’m sure that Steve isn’t expecting you to put pen to paper immediately after reading his letter. He’d probably _prefer_ you to take some time to consider it.”

 

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frowning. He knew they were right. He really did need to just… think. Could he give Steve those things, or not? Could he manage a life out west? What was he really afraid of?

 

“I’m going to need to finish the punch,” Tony said after a moment, and punctuated his statement with an almost-too-large swallow.

 

Ana paused mid-sip, then set her glass down to frown at him. “Why?”

 

“So I can have a hangover from hell so that when Ezekiel and Obadiah arrive to take me to a party, I will be indisposed,” Tony admitted.

 

Ana pursed her lips, thoughtful. “…Whose party is it?”

 

Tony grimaced and folded his arms on the table, shoving his face into them as he mumbled, “Tiberius Stone.”

 

“Ew!” Jan blurted out immediately. “Gross! He’s even worse than Ezekiel!” She grabbed the pitcher to fill his glass to the brim. “Drink up, honey.”

 

“I’ll run you a hot bath,” Ana added.

 

“You don’t need to do that,” Tony exclaimed, lifting his head. “Ana! You’re not a servant! You don’t need to wait on me!”

 

“Oh, don’t be preposterous, Anthony. That’s not what’s happening,” Ana scoffed, rolling her eyes. “How else are you to fake a fever?”

 

Tony stared at her, brows furrowed together. “I—I don’t… know?”

 

“You really _must_ tell us stories about your life growing up,” Jan insisted, leaning her chin on her hand. “You sound like you were a real firecracker.”

 

“I am _still_ a real firecracker, dear,” Ana said, and stood. “I’m going to go look through some of my powders. Surely one of them will go with your skin tone to make you look pallid without it being obviously fake.”

 

Jan and Tony watched her leave the room. “She’s so neat,” Jan breathed. “How did Mr. Jarvis ever manage finding a girl like that?”

 

“He said that he bought a tie from her in Budapest and immediately fell in love with her,” Tony replied, trailing his finger around the rim of his glass before plucking out a slice of orange. “The way Ana tells it, she saw this tall Englishman and thought his accent was cute when he tried to say ‘thank you’ in Hungarian.”

 

“That’s so romantic,” Jan sighed, smiling, and picked a chunk of apple out of her punch to pop into her mouth. “It’s not fair. All of these older people have such sweet stories of meeting their partners in Europe, and we got stuck here with the Stanes.”

 

Tony hummed agreeably, laying his head on his arms as he thought about his parents. They’d met in Italy, when Howard had been cheeky and Maria had been unimpressed. Howard had sworn that he would impress her. Maria had promised that nothing he did would. And then six months later they’d gotten married. Maria had told stories about their courtship. Howard was apparently the typical blockhead alpha, but in the moments where he was soft and sweet, she fell in love with him.

 

Tony wanted that, too. But he knew he’d never get that with Ezekiel. He’d probably never get it with anyone else, either, if he stayed.

 

Tony picked up the scrap of paper with a splash of yellow paint on it again, humming thoughtfully. Steve liked lemon chiffon yellow.

 

Tony smiled a little. _Soft and sweet_.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“You’ve murdered me,” Tony moaned, arm thrown over his eyes. “Please close the drapes! I will actually die if you don’t!”

 

“You’re such a big baby,” Ana teased, but obediently covered the windows to darken the room.

 

Tony moaned again, curling up on his side. “How much rum did you put in that daiquiri?”

 

“Just the regular amount,” she replied, fluffing a pillow before gently putting it over his head to help block out the rest of the light. “I just added a hell of a lot of gin to it.”

 

“You’ve murdered me,” Tony whimpered again. “I will heave all my innards out if I move ever again.”

 

“Aim at either of the Stanes,” Ana said. “I hope it gets in their shoes.”

 

Tony laughed a little, then groaned as his stomach lurched. “Oh I’m actually going to die.”

 

“Edwin is making you a tonic right now,” Ana assured him, running a hand up and down his arm gently. “Just be glad you’re not Janet.”

 

“Oh, God, all those turns to her house in that car,” Tony giggled, then grunted and swallowed thickly. “God. Ana, if I should perish, I want all of my belongings to go to you and Jarvis.”

 

“Baby,” Ana teased again, then pulled the pillow up just enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “Rest, dear.”

 

Tony grabbed her sleeve before she could pull away entirely. “Ana?”

 

Ana paused, then slowly sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Anthony?”

 

Tony rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers nervously before softly asking, “Will you—will you tell me how you and Jarvis met again?”

 

Ana blinked at him in surprise, but then her expression softened, and she leaned down to press another kiss to his forehead. “If you want, dear.”

 

Tony curled closer to her, pressing his shins against her back gently, relishing the extra contact as she gently began to rub the base of his skull. “I do.”

 

“I was living in Budapest,” Ana began slowly, as if walking through the memory, taking her time. “I worked in this little clothes shop, selling ties. And there was… there was the ugliest tie, that I never could get rid of, and I still can’t believe the owner of the shop had dared put it out for sale. It was _gaudy_. It was olive green and salmon pink. My lord, what an ugly tie,” she whispered, mostly to herself, but smiled when Tony reluctantly giggled. “And, well. I was the tie girl. I had to pretend I thought that tie was great. I tried to up sell it to every customer, but they always turned it down. Then one day, the owner of the shop came up to me, and he said, ‘Ana, if you sell this tie today, I’ll give you a raise.’

 

“I knew I’d never be able to do it, but of course I was as brash as I always am,” she continued. “And I so wanted a raise. And lo! A foreigner walked into the shop! I thought, here’s my chance—a sucker.”

 

Tony let out a reluctant huff of laughter. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Ana replied, smiling. “I flirted. I up sold. I assured him that the olive green went with his skin tone and the salmon pink highlighted his eyes. I used every compliment I knew—and a few I made up on the spot. Edwin kept looking at this silver and blue tie, but I insisted. The green and salmon. The shop owner got tired of watching me, and once he was gone, Edwin told me he’d take the tie, but only if I agreed to go on a date with him. He was charming, and so handsome, and my mother always told me I was much too reckless. So I agreed.

 

“And Edwin was so charming,” she sighed, and covered her mouth for a moment. “So sweet, and kind. I fell in love with him immediately. Of course, I did play hard to get,” she added hurriedly. “And my mother didn’t approve, but… then the unrest started happening, and I was frightened—everyone was. So my mother told me she approved, and I went to Edwin, and we married immediately and followed your father to Italy. He paid for our honeymoon. He struggled to show his emotions, but… I think he did try to show Edwin that he was happy for him in his own way. We were so happy.” She stroked her thumb up and down the back of Tony’s neck gently. “We’re _still_ so happy.”

 

“So romantic,” Tony murmured to himself. He felt warm down to his bones even as he ducked his head back under the pillow. “Ana?”

 

Ana tilted her head, still gazing off into the distance. “Hmm?”

 

“Did you ever get your raise?”

 

Ana blinked slowly, then let out a bark of laughter when she realized what he’d asked. “Ha! No. The shop owner thought that I’d bribed Edwin with my feminine wiles.”

 

Tony laughed, then groaned when his stomach lurched again. “Oh my God.”

 

Ana smiled down at him, then quietly asked, “Will you tell me about how you met Steve?”

 

“What-?” Tony asked, startled, and lifted the pillow to stare at her in surprise. “What do you—”

 

Ana shrugged, reaching out to smooth his hair out of his eyes. “Just… if anyone ever asked how you met him, what would you say?”

 

Tony frowned, brows furrowing together as he thought about it. If someone asked him how he met Steve… what _would_ he say? “I… I guess…” He chewed on his bottom lip nervously before continuing, “I guess I’d say… I answered a lot of marriage ads. Some of the replies I got were… awful. And Steve’s first reply kind of was awful too. But I decided to give him a chance anyway, and his second reply to me was beautiful and thoughtful and… and he gave me a present.”

 

“A present?” Ana asked, sounding surprised. “What kind of present?”

 

“U-um—” Tony blushed a little. “A drawing. Of the view from his porch. It—it was beautiful. And he was so humble, said he wished he had something better to give me. We exchanged additional correspondence, told each other what we expected out of a partner, and… um… I traveled west to meet him.”

 

“Now if you heard that story from somebody else,” Ana said gently. “You would think it was incredibly romantic, wouldn’t you?” When Tony stayed silent, she gave his shoulder the gentlest of squeezes. “It’s just as romantic as the start that Edwin and I had, that your parents had, that Janet is having with her beau. You don’t realize it, because it’s so new, and not at all what you expected, but you’ll look back, and you’ll realize how beautiful and sweet it really was.”

 

Tony bit his bottom lip, then whispered, “But what if I don’t marry Steve?”

 

To her credit, Ana took a few minutes to think about it. Finally, she said, “Then he will be a bittersweet memory, still romantic, but with a touch of melancholy. But just because you didn’t end up together, it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t romantic.”

 

“…Do you have bittersweet memories, Ana?” Tony asked softly.

 

She smiled sadly and whispered, “Too many to count,” before she gave him one last kiss on the cheek and took her leave of him.

 

Tony kept his head buried under the pillow for a while, thinking, before he carefully pushed himself to the edge of his bed and opened the drawer in his bedside table to pull out the drawings Steve had sent him. There was the clear night sky, and there was the retired cattle dog Lucky, and there were the steer that Steve kept watchful eye over until they went to market. It was terribly romantic, wasn’t it, that Steve sent him these drawings? And he’d been so worried, too, that they wouldn’t be good enough for him.

 

Tony reached out with shaking fingers to pull the false bottom out of the drawer and draw Steve’s letters out, too. His eyes trailed over the looping scrawl again and again. Steve was so earnest, all those _Dear Tonys_ , and _Sincerelys_ , and _I hope you like it heres_. Tony got the impression that he was kind. He wasn’t so sure about this… swearing problem that Steve had, but… he supposed if he got kicked by a steer, he’d swear a lot too.

 

And it wasn’t like Steve was being really unreasonable. Jan and Jarvis were right—he was just scared. Tony was realizing with sort of a sinking feeling that he was afraid he would do too well away from everything he knew, and not because he was afraid he would fail. He’d felt so free and alive when he’d realized he could get out from under Obadiah and Ezekiel, like he could do anything. Maybe he was scared that he’d get to Steve, and do well, and then be dragged back.

 

He’d never know either way if he didn’t make a decision, though.

 

Tony reread Steve’s last letter, frowning. He could… he could be a companion. He could be someone to talk to, someone to come home to. Steve wouldn’t need to spend each night alone, watching the prairie. He had lots to talk about. His parents had always laughed about how he could have a conversation with himself, too, so if Steve was ever too tired to talk, Tony could… talk for the both of them.

 

And taking care of the house? He could do that. If he had all day to do it, he could probably even manage to make his work look passable. Steve had said he could entertain, too, so… so maybe if Tony made friends, he could do that. Steve seemed to really want him to like Timely and the people in it, so he would probably make friends to spend time with. Surely someone would be his friend. He hoped he didn’t come off as stuck-up. He’d heard that sometimes city manners didn’t translate well in the west. Hopefully the people of the town were as kind as Steve himself was.

 

For the matter of children, well… He… He could probably… Tony had never really thought about children. He could admit he’d been too afraid to do it. Up until now, any children he had would be the result of… coupling… with Ezekiel. He hadn’t wanted to speculate what it would mean, in any terms—how the bedding would have happened, how he would have to suffer congratulations over the hypothetical child, how he’d fear for his child under Obadiah and Ezekiel’s thumbs.

 

But with Steve… Steve had said that if Tony didn’t really want to have children, that that was okay. That was more than most alphas would allow. And it wasn’t like he was… opposed to children. Just… to children with Ezekiel. Steve seemed like a good, kind man. Tony thought perhaps that Steve would… would be a good father. And perhaps he himself might be a good mother, with a supportive mate instead of a selfish one. And of course, after all, Steve had only asked to discuss it. They were still going to get to know each other after he arrived in Timely.

 

They would be friends first. And Tony so desperately longed for friends.

 

There was a knock on the door, and Tony hurriedly shoved the letters and sketches under his pillows, terrified.

 

Jarvis poked his head in. “Sir, the Stanes are here. They wish to see you.”

 

“I’m indisposed,” Tony whispered. The light from the hallway was making his head pound again, and his stomach lurched as he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“Very well, sir,” Jarvis began, only to squawk as Obadiah shoved past him anyway.

 

Ezekiel came to hover next to him, pretty sure that if he tried to pass into Tony’s room without permission, Jarvis would happily gut him.

 

“Anthony!” Obadiah barked angrily.

 

Tony winced, grinding his teeth together. “Uncle Obie,” he whispered.

 

“You’re expected at the party,” Obadiah continued. "You can't just not show up!" He grabbed at the blankets to pull them off.

 

Jarvis politely rammed his shoulder into him to push him away. “Even an uncle should not rip the bed clothes off an omega in his own room,” he told Obadiah primly.

 

Obadiah looked livid, but he also knew better than to question Jarvis on what was and was not proper. Jarvis held propriety in high regard. Even Ezekiel didn’t tangle with him, and Ezekiel had little regard for anything but the allowance he got from his father.

 

Obadiah took a deep breath, then let it back out slowly, still looking angry as he scowled at Tony, but a lot less likely to do anything rude. “You’re expected at a party,” he repeated.

 

“I need a pan,” Tony blurted out, jerking into a sitting position.

 

Jarvis, ever prepared, handed the omega the bedpan that had been sitting on his bedside table. Tony bent over it with a loud ‘hurk.’

 

“We’ll make your excuses,” Obadiah said, covering his mouth with a handkerchief, and stomped out.

 

“Excellent timing, sir,” Jarvis told Tony.

 

“Jarvis it burds. Oh by God id's combing oud by dose.”

 

“I’ll get a wet cloth,” Jarvis said. “And have Ana bring up some crackers.”

 

“I’mb dying,” Tony sobbed.

 

Jarvis didn’t call him a baby. He was too professional for that.

 

That’s what Ana was for.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony set his lap-desk across his legs, nibbling on a cracker carefully. “Mr. Steve Rogers, as terrifying as your letter was, I find your terms acceptable.” He tilted his head and made a face. “Ugh. Mr. Steve Rogers, your desires for a mate are decently—No. Mr. Steve Rogers, I can’t possibly thank you enough for your candor.” He wrinkled his nose and sighed. No. That didn’t sound right either.

 

Tony frowned down at his blank stationery for a long moment before lifting his pen, whispering a soft, almost embarrassed, “Dear Steve.” He hesitated, then set the letter aside again. He had to think a little more, even though he was pretty sure of his answer. Perhaps he’d come up with the words he needed as he thought about it. He reached out for the book Jarvis had brought him instead, flipping it open to the first page.

 

“‘The vegetables we know as beans and peas, called legumes, are members of the large Fabaceae family and represent some of the most important vegetable staples known to mankind…’”

 

.-.-.-.

 

_Dear Steve,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am currently under the weather again, but I should be well again by the time this letter reaches you. I must admit that I’ve wondered how to address you and the things you wrote in our previous correspondence, and I’ve decided to just push forward. I may struggle to find my feet if I come to Timely, but I think, by your side, I will be able to learn._

_I took no issue with any of your desires in a mate. Every person, I think, wishes for someone to come home to, especially after a long, hard day of work. I hope that I can be that person for you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen, and if you’re too tired to speak but still want my company, I can speak for the both of us. I’m certain there will come a time where you’ll wish I would stop. I’ll try not to talk too much. I’ve been told I can ramble. But maybe you’d like that, after having nothing to listen to but cattle._

_I’ll help as much as I can, but I also ask you to please be patient as I learn. I’ll probably make mistakes, and I’ll try to make sure they’re not too costly, but I’m sure there will be mistakes so spectacular that they’ll leave both of us speechless. But I do wish to be your partner, and to help ease your burden. I must be honest and tell you that I might not be able to help you too much with the heavier duties, as I have not put in much physical labor during my life, but I will try to help in any other way that I can. If keeping house and cooking for you are the ways to do that, I will endeavor to do both whole-heartedly._

_I’m not entirely opposed to children, and am open to discussion. The idea of children is terrifying to me, but I can admit that part of that is because my parents left me so soon, and up until now have been afraid to think about them. That isn’t to say that I don’t want them, of course, but my concerns, even if they stem from nothing, do weigh on my mind. I hope we can achieve an agreement on this topic that suits both of us. I’m heartened greatly by your assurance that you don’t need children, no matter how desperately you may want them._

_I’m not certain how I feel about you swearing often. I understand stubbing your toe and wanting to let out a good, heartfelt ‘damn,’ and I can suppose I can also understand getting kicked by a steer and cursing a blue streak. Swearing just to swear is not something I’m necessarily comfortable with. But if you can promise to try not to swear without reason, I can promise to try and learn to live with when you do swear._

_My favorite color is red. You're quite an artist, so I am going to assume that you know the shade: the perfect shade of the sun going down, the deep indigo of night hovering at the edges of it, the sun a giant golden sliver disappearing over the horizon. The backgrounds of where we live might be different, but the sky and sun we look at are the same. Steve, I think we’re a good match. I have never had such ease of correspondence with another alpha, and I think it means something. Do you think we’re a good match, Steve? Could you ever consider me your omega?_

_Kindest regards,_

_Tony_

_P.S.—What was your mother’s favorite kind of soap? I’ll make sure to keep some handy just in case I find your swearing a bit too exuberant. I wish you well, Steve._


	4. Chapter 4

“Fold the dough in half toward your body, give it a quarter turn, then use the heels of your hands to push it back out,” Jarvis explained.

 

“How many times do I have to do this?” Tony asked, grunting with the effort of pushing the dough back out.

 

“It’s not how many,” Jarvis said. “It’s how long. I usually do it for about five to ten minutes.”

 

Tony frowned, brow furrowing. “And it’s done after ten minutes?”

 

"Well…” Jarvis hummed, tilting his head. “That’s just how long it takes me. It will probably take you longer since you’re not used to it. You can tell you’re finished kneading when the dough is nice and smooth. And if you’re still unsure, you can always poke it with your finger. If the hole fills in quickly, it’s done; if the dent obviously stays, you need to keep at it.”

 

“Poke it,” Tony repeated, reaching over for his pen to jot that down too. His pen and the paper he was writing on were already covered in flour, but now his pen had a smear of sticky dough on it.

 

“It shouldn’t be coming away on your hands, either,” Jarvis added, sprinkling some more flour onto the dough.

 

“Shouldn’t be… coming… away on hands… add… flour,” Tony whispered, writing that too.

 

Jarvis couldn’t help a fond laugh. “You really don’t need to write these down immediately, Anthony. I’d repeat it for you later.”

 

“I have to write it down or I’ll lose it,” Tony insisted. He had so much to learn in so little time.

 

Well… Maybe not so little time. He hadn’t heard back from Steve, yet, after all, and who knew if Steve still wanted him after his reply? Perhaps he hadn’t sold himself well enough. Steve had an awful lot of desires in a mate and Tony probably hadn’t been incredibly reassuring when he admitted that he wasn’t necessarily very skilled at these things. He’d asked for Steve to be patient as he learned, but maybe Steve couldn’t afford to be patient. Tony understood that.

 

Still, Steve had seemed so kind in his letters, had seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t mind someone failing as long as they were honestly trying. Surely he wouldn’t hold Tony’s ignorance against him. Tony might not know Steve personally yet, but he liked to think he knew some of the intimate parts of him. He knew that Steve got lonely, and that he was artistic, and that his favorite color was yellow. And Steve knew him–knew he was anxious, and scared, but still willing to try. That must count for something, right?

 

“Once you have bread perfected, you can make mostly anything with it,” Jarvis said, cutting through his thoughts, and Tony focused on kneading again. “Pot pie crusts, rolls, soft pretzels… You can make a slurry of cinnamon and sugar and make cinnamon rolls…”

 

“What if it doesn’t rise again?” Tony asked worriedly. He’d had that problem with the first batch. He hadn’t proofed his yeast properly. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. But what if by some miracle he  _did_  kill the yeast between proofing and leaving it to rise?

 

Jarvis looked surprisingly unworried about the idea. “I’m sure that Steve will have a cast iron pan.”

 

Tony looked up at him in confusion. “A cast iron pan?”

 

“Throw some butter in the pan and cook small, flat pieces of the dough in it. You can put some olive oil and spices on it or sprinkle it with sugar and nutmeg.” Jarvis shrugged. “I have to do that all the time when Ana cooks.”

 

“I’m telling Ana you said that,” Tony said, smiling a little.

 

Jarvis snorted, unimpressed. “Ana knows she can’t cook. That’s why I do it.”

 

Tony laughed, and then let out a startled noise when Jarvis pushed a lock of his hair back behind his ear and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple. “What was that for?” he asked, surprised, because Jarvis usually didn’t indulge in shows of affection unless Tony clearly needed it. It didn’t upset him when Jarvis showed him affection without cause, but… it made Jarvis extremely vulnerable in case the wrong person saw it and reported it back to Obadiah. So he didn’t indulge himself often.

 

Jarvis ran his fingers through his hair again, eyes soft and fond and sad. “You’ve laughed more in the past few months than you did in the rest of the time since your parents died. There’s a lightness in you now.”

 

Tony looked back down at the dough he was working, cheeks flushing a rosy pink. His first instinct was to deny it, but… he’d had more hope in the last few months than he had for previous  _years_. There was a light at the end of the tunnel for him, a chance to do what he wanted instead of what he was told to do. He hadn’t realized how much the inevitability of marrying Ezekiel had worn him down. Now he was making all these plans, practicing all these things he might need to know in the future, taking down notes in case he forgot and had no one to ask, and he was enjoying it. He… he hadn’t enjoyed something, truly, for a very long time.

 

“Steve has made you happy again,” Jarvis said softly. “And I’m wary, of course I am, but… I think he’ll continue to make you happy, Anthony.”

 

Tony turned and buried his face in Jarvis’s chest with a quiet sob. “Oh Jarvis-! How can I leave you like this? After all you’ve done for me!”

 

“I always knew a time would come when you would have to leave,” Jarvis informed him gently, wrapping his arms around him and stroking a hand up and down his trembling back. “I knew one day you would marry and go off to start your own family. Of course, when you were younger, I’d imagined it happening with someone you liked. Now you have that chance again, and I want you to take it, and I never want you to look back.”

 

“I’ll always look back for you, Jarvis,” Tony whispered. “For you and Ana and Jan. You’ve all done so much for me. I won’t look back for anything else but you.”

 

Jarvis smiled and pressed another kiss to the top of his head. “Maybe one day, when you’ve been gone long enough that no one will suspect, Ana and I will come and visit you.”

 

“I would like that very much, Jarvis,” Tony murmured softly. “And I could introduce you to Steve, and show you all the things I’ve learned.”

 

Jarvis rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I’m sure you will.”

 

“Mail call!” Jan shouted gleefully as she pranced into the kitchen with the letters held triumphantly above her head, then paused, hand slowly sinking until the letters were pressed to her chest. “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”

 

“No,” Tony said hurriedly, and lifted his hands to wipe his face. Then he wailed. “I got dough in my hair!”

 

“HA!” Jan snorted, pointing at him, then ducked her head demurely when Jarvis shot her a look. “I mean. Oops. Bad luck, Tony.”

 

Tony came at her with both doughy hands. “I’m going to wipe these all over your shirt.”

 

“Tony noooo!” Jan shouted, turning to run, but she was giggling.

 

Ana yelped as Jan ducked past her, then grunted as she had to spin with the motion to avoid Tony and his floury hands, too, holding the bag of groceries she’d bought over her head. “Children!” she shouted after them, like she had so many times before, and smiled when they shouted happy, giggly apologies over their shoulders.

 

Jarvis took over kneading the dough as Ana began putting groceries away. “Did you hear that?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes,” Ana said, smiling, even as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Edwin. I had no idea how much I missed the sound of laughter until just now.”

 

Jarvis smiled a little, not turning from the dough, allowing her the privacy to get her bearings again. “You gave that back to him, you know. Not me, not Jan, not even Steven–you’re the one who suggested writing letters. You gave him his freedom again.”

 

“If the Stanes try to stop Tony, I’ll kill them,” Ana whispered.

 

Jarvis finally turned, laying one lightly-floured hand over her clasped, trembling ones. “I doubt it would come to that, dear.”

 

“You know the Stanes, Edwin,” Ana said shakily as she looked up at him, allowing herself to show him the worry and fear she’d felt for so many years. “You’ve seen what they can do firsthand. How can you say it wouldn’t come to that?”

 

Jarvis gave her hands a squeeze and, solemnly, told her, “Ana. You would never have to do that, because I would do it first.”

 

Ana blinked up at him, surprised, then leaned in to press her face against his neck and breathe. “Edwin…”

 

“Why do you think Obadiah kept me around so long?” Jarvis asked mildly. “He knows if he took Anthony from me, I would no longer have anything to lose. He knows if he took Anthony from me, I’d send you on the first ship back to Hungary and then eat his miserable heart.”

 

Ana leaned back and stared at him, stunned silent, then let out a sigh and hid her face again.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“This is really good, Tony,” Jan said, slathering some apricot jam on a slice of bread. “At least you’ll be able to make bread for Steve, if nothing else.”

 

“Thanks, Jan,” Tony said blandly, copying his notes from making bread over into a clean notebook. “I really appreciate that.”

 

“Yes, my compliments are the best,” she preened. Tony rolled his eyes so hard his entire body moved with it. She primly said nothing, instead shuffling through the letters she’d brought him. “That chemist you were talking to sent another letter.”

 

“We’re not really working out,” Tony admitted softly. “I think he knows it too. I feel kind of bad, because he really was sweet.”

 

Jan wasn’t too bothered. The beta had been sweet, but she’d seen how smitten Tony was with Steve. She’d known that Tony jumped into things wholeheartedly and feet-first and just hoped for the best. As soon as Steve had sent Tony that drawing, Tony’s mind had been made up–he just hadn’t realized it yet.

 

“Maybe you’ll work out better as friends,” she suggested when he picked up the envelope and frowned at it. “Just because you’re not compatible as spouses doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Weren’t you just telling me that you had an interesting conversation about… what was it… atoms or something?”

 

“Radioactivity,” Tony deadpanned, unimpressed with her recollection. “We were discussing Henri Becquerel’s discovery of radioactivity.”

 

“Ugh, I don’t actually care,” Jan sighed loudly. “It was like listening to Hank talk about ants. I support your endeavors but after an hour you could stand to listening to me bitch about the price of cashmere.”

 

“Janet!” Jarvis exclaimed, appalled.

 

Jan huffed. “Well they could!” she reaffirmed defiantly, and then passed Tony another letter so he couldn’t yell at her some more. “Here. This one’s from Steve.”

 

Tony immediately dropped his pen, taking the letter with both hands. “Steve!”

 

“A man would be mighty flattered to hear someone call their name like that, Anthony,” Ana pointed out with a grin.

 

Tony flushed immediately at the connotation, and then in embarrassment at how obviously smitten he was. Ana laughed a little, then squealed, startled. Tony and Jan stared at her as she flushed and fled the room before whipping around to look at Jarvis.

 

“Tea?” Jarvis asked, and poured them some before they could answer.

 

They wisely took the tea without a word.

 

Jarvis scooped up the the few letters from new suitors to read and swept out of the room with a mild smile and nothing else.

 

“…Mr. Jarvis frightens me,” Jan admitted once she was sure he was gone.

 

“I think he knows,” Tony replied. “And I think he likes it. Would you mind if I…?”

 

She blinked at him. “Huh?” She saw him fingering the corner of Steve’s letter and jumped a little in her seat. “Oh! Um. Sure. I’ll just… go… somewhere.”

 

“There’s a lovely window seat in the library,” Tony offered. “Take your tea or Jarvis might get offended.”

 

“I’m taking my tea because I  _like_  Mr. Jarvis’s tea,” Jan sniffed. She snatched up the tray of bread and jam too. “And I’m going to snoop through what you’ve been reading about.”

 

“Hope you’re ready to read a lot abOUT GARDENING!” Tony called after her, and smiled when she blew a raspberry at him before the door swung closed.

 

He waited until he was sure she was gone before he traced his hands over the edges of the envelope, fingering the corners nervously. What if… what if Steve said he had reconsidered? What if he’d found someone with experience in farming or ranching? What… what if he’d found someone with money?

 

Tony hugged the letter to his chest and took a few deep breaths, blinking tears out of his eyes. It didn’t matter. He had other options. He liked Steve, but he didn’t really  _know_  him. He just… very much liked the idea of him. So if Steve… If Steve had decided that they weren’t a good match after Tony’s admissions, he’d accept it. He’d just mourn the idea of Steve and make sure to take extra good care of the drawings he’d been given.

 

Tony took another deep breath, setting the envelope back on the table and smoothing his hands over it. This piece of paper would decide whether his future was with Steve… or someone else. Tony took a moment to smile sadly at the address on the front. Something in him ached, and he figured it was because it wasn’t actually  _his_  address, but Jan’s, and his name wasn’t actually on the envelope as the addressee, like he’d requested of his suitors; even if it was for his own safety, there was something a little sad about it. He traced his fingers over the letters of the address slowly, then sighed and reached for the letter opener.

 

There was no reason to prolong his misery. He’d need to make a decision soon anyway.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I know you said you’d feel better by the time your letter arrived to me, but I hope you’re feeling better anyway. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that you take no issue with any of my desires. ~~I hope the terms~~   ~~I want you to know~~   ~~I appreciate your candor~~_

_Tony, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you if you could see yourself marrying me in my letters for weeks. I have baskets full of my trashed attempts. And you just… You just came right out and asked. I’m in awe. I feel like a coward for not asking sooner, for making you ask instead, but at the same time… You must be an incredible omega, Tony, and I would be honored to call you mine. I hope I’ll be able to show you that I’m not actually cowardly or hesitant. My friends actually tell me I’m damnably reckless and straightforward. I’ve just been trying so hard not to say anything that might offend you, because I know things are different in the city than they are here, and I just wanted so much for you to like me._

_I don’t even know what else to say. Or what else to ask. I just want to go shout to the world that you’d consider me a good mate. That you’d consider me for a spouse. I may go do that tonight, once the cowhands have left. Or maybe I’ll just go out and do it right now. I’m not ashamed. You’re kind and patient and willing to leave behind everything you know to come to everything you don’t. What more could a man ask for? I can’t think of any other time in my life when I’ve felt so happy. I hope you feel happy too, Tony. I hope you won’t be disappointed in me._

_My ma always bought this soap with rose petals in it. It was kind of ugly. Smelled bad too. Good luck getting it in my mouth, though. I’m not a seven-year-old boy anymore._

_Sincerely,_

_Steve_

_P.S.–I’m open to other flavors of soap if you can’t find any with rose petals in it._

 

“Oh,” Tony said, beginning to stand, before all the strength left him at once and he slumped back down. He clutched the letter to his chest. “Oh, oh, oh. Oh my God. Jan. Jan?” He turned toward the door, voice cracking as he shouted, “Jan?!”

 

Jan burst in immediately, still holding the cup of tea and the tray with bread and jam. Jarvis and Ana stumbled in after her. Tony stared, surprised, and then rolled his eyes. It had been foolish of him to believe they’d go too far when he’d been reading Steve’s letter.

 

“What is it?!” Jan asked, wild-eyed. “What did he say?!”

 

Jarvis took the tray from her hand, frowning. He didn’t want her to drop it. She was excitable even on the best of days. Ana took the teacup from her other hand just in case.

 

Jan rushed over to him when it looked like Tony might keel over. “Tony! What did he say!?”

 

“I–he’s glad I said yes,” Tony answered after a moment, breathless. His lips began to spread into a wide smile. “He’d be honored to call me his omega.” He laughed a little, helpless, and lifted a hand to wipe the tears forming in his eyes. “He’s going to go shout it to the world that I think he’d be a good mate.”

 

“Tony!” Jan exclaimed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck. “Tony he wants to marry you!”

 

He clutched back at her, burying his face in his shoulder as he whispered, “He wants to  _marry_  me.”

 

Jan bounced where she stood, which also had the unintended consequence of bouncing Tony a little, too. She held him tighter. “You can leave the Stanes behind! Ezekiel won’t have any claim on you anymore!”

 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed softly.

 

Jan paused when she heard his breath hitch, then ran a hand up and down his back. “Are you okay, Tony?”

 

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” Tony whispered, even as he clung to her shirt so hard that his knuckles ached. “I’m relieved. I swear I am. I’m  _happy_. So why am I crying?”

 

Jan looked up at Jarvis and Ana helplessly, burying one hand in Tony’s hair. “I… I don’t know either, honey.”

 

“Anthony,” Jarvis said gently, coming over to place his hand on his back. “Come here.”

 

Tony left the letter in Jan’s hands and turned with a sob to curl up against Jarvis’s chest instead. “Jarvis-!”

 

“Some people cry when they’re relieved,” Jarvis explained quietly, lifting one hand to lightly scratch over the omega’s back, like he had when Tony cried as a child. “And I’m sure you’re very happy, Anthony. But you’ve had a terrible burden on you ever since your parents passed, whether you knew it or not. Now freedom is so close you can taste it. You’re crying years of terror out, my dear boy.”

 

Jan clutched the letter to her chest, tears of her own rolling down her cheeks. She’d known that Tony was miserable, but he’d hidden so much from her–his decline down into this shell of a person had been so gradual she hadn’t really noticed its toll on him until he’d called and asked for her help, sounding hopeful and excited for the first time in… heavens. Years. She had no idea what she could have done to help, but she would have gladly helped shoulder the burden in any way she could, if only being a sympathetic ear for him. She felt like she’d failed him.

 

Ana slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her away to give the boys some privacy. “Janet, may I speak freely?”

 

Jan wiped at her eyes quickly. “Yes, of course!”

 

“You’ve done all you could,” Ana told her gently. “Because it’s all that Anthony would allow you to do. You would have been overstepping if you’d done more. It’s not your fault that Anthony’s stubborn. You threw yourself into this endeavor wholeheartedly and Anthony will always love you for your help. Please don’t feel badly that you didn’t do enough. You’re just a child, too, and an omega one. There was nothing more that could have been done.”

 

“It’s not fair,” Jan whispered helplessly. “He has to leave everything he’s ever known to be happy. He has to leave you and Mr. Jarvis. He has to leave  _me_. And I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want him to go off alone. It’s not fair. He shouldn’t have to do everything alone.”

 

Ana smiled, and it was the saddest one Jan had ever had the misfortune of seeing on her. “It’s not selfish, Janet. It just means you care. The only way it would be selfish would be if you disallowed him the chance to strike out on his own. Whether he succeeds or fails is on him–but it’s up to us to allow him the choice to do so, and believe in him. Especially because no one else has.”

 

Jan frowned up at her, pondering what she’d been told, before she straightened her shoulders and nodded. She lifted her hand to dry her eyes one last time, and swore it would be the last time she cried for Tony (at least until he was gone and had no chance of seeing it). She would stand behind his decisions. She’d always been allowed to make her own, after all, so it was only fair to back Tony up.

 

It was time someone finally allowed Tony to make his own decisions, too.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony put off writing to Steve by responding to all of his other suitors first, telling them that he was sorry but he’d found a spouse, and he hoped there were no hard feelings. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to write to Steve–he just… didn’t know what to say. He wanted to write back that he’d be on the first train to Timely as soon as he could manage, that he would marry him at the train depot if Steve could get the preacher there, that he was excited to get away from New York and to Steve–

 

But he also wanted to appear… calm. And collected. Even if he also wanted to run outside and shout, “Steve wants to marry me!” So he got all his nerves and excitement out by calmly and gently breaking it to his other suitors that he was now affianced so would have to end their courtships, and telling the select few that he’d made a connection with that if they weren’t too terribly hurt by his rejection, he’d still like to correspond with them. He could understand if they wanted to cease contact though. They’d started correspondence with the expectation that they might marry him.

 

But he was going to marry Steve.

 

Tony squeaked and covered his mouth to hide his grin, embarrassed. He was going to marry Steve. Steve, who had only wanted companionship and someone to help out around his home. Steve, who had no problem with Tony having company over while he was gone, because he didn’t want  _Tony_  to be lonely. Steve, an artist, an alpha who liked lemon chiffon yellow and didn’t mind that Tony didn’t know how to do everything he necessarily needed to for life on the ranch.

 

Steve, who was earnest and kind and nothing at all like Ezekiel.

 

“It is poor manners to run outside screaming about your engagement,” Jarvis said mildly as he picked up the empty coffee-cup from beside Tony’s elbow. “Steve gets a pass because he has no neighbors to wake.”

 

“I-! I wasn’t going to do that!” Tony exclaimed, blushing, and yanked another piece of stationery toward him.

 

He’d just… really, really wanted to, was all.

 

Jarvis hummed, raising his eyebrows with a smile. “You should ask Steve what his favorite dessert is so I can teach you how to make it.”

 

Tony sat up straighter at the thought. “Oh!” That would be nice. Steve might even be pleasantly surprised.

 

He should ask what Steve’s other favorite foods were. He was supposed to cook for him, after all. He’d gotten bread down, and he could roast a chicken, and Jarvis had shown him how to make a chicken spread to put on a slice of toast, but… Steve would definitely get tired of chicken and bread. He was a rancher, after all. He must eat a lot of beef.

 

“Will you teach me how to cook beef?” Tony asked as Jarvis set a cup of warm milk on the table next to him, a silent but firm suggestion that he go to sleep.

 

Jarvis paused, thoughtful, then slowly replied, “I could… show you how to make a roast.”

 

“That’s all?” Tony asked, unable to help feeling disappointed. He couldn’t possibly make a roast every day. Although… he supposed it would help him practice…

 

“Ana might know a few recipes,” Jarvis said after some more thought. “I know more mutton dishes than beef.”

 

“Maybe they’ll translate,” Tony suggested, but he wasn’t hopeful. The allowance they received from Obadiah wasn’t really enough to be able to experiment. They had to eat what he cooked, and if what he made was inedible, they went hungry that night.

 

Jarvis frowned. “I’ll think on it some more, Anthony.”

 

“Maybe Ana can find me an inexpensive cookbook while she’s buying herself a new penny novel,” Tony mumbled, frowning.

 

“I’ll ask her,” Jarvis said, and decided to also tell Ana that if it was a little more expensive than either of them would like, they could probably take some from their meager savings to pay for it, as long as she didn’t mind. He didn’t think she would.

 

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Tony sighed. “Now I need to write to Steve.” He still don’t know what to say beyond, ‘Dear Steve, I am getting on a train tomorrow and you’ll be stuck with me before you can regret saying yes.’ That didn’t seem polite.

 

“I suppose,” Jarvis began, looking pained.

 

Tony blinked up at him. “Yes?”

 

“…You… could… dab a little perfume on the letter,” Jarvis said, like every word hurt him.

 

Tony giggled, surprised, and blushed a little. “Oh! Jarvis!”

 

“If he’s your fiancé, I guess it’s okay,” Jarvis grumbled. “And he’s sent you drawings, so. …Never mind,” Jarvis muttered, and fled so politely that if Tony hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have thought Jarvis was trying to escape anything at all.

 

Tony waited until he was sure Jarvis was out of hearing range before laughing out loud. He wondered how much it had cost Jarvis to suggest such a thing. He’d been so offended at the idea originally, and he really was as prim and proper as any of Tony’s teachers at finishing school.

 

Tony smiled a little down at his stationery. Well, Jarvis had just been trying to help, even if it had fallen flat. At least he’d gotten a good laugh out of it. He picked up his pen, twisting it in his fingers as he tried to figure out what to say, but couldn’t make it further than ‘Dear Steve’ without blushing and letting a high-pitched noise pass his lips.

 

Could he really just say ‘that makes me really happy?’ It seemed like it wasn’t nearly enough. He wasn’t just happy–he was elated, excited, relieved. He was nervous and scared out of his wits to fail. He was afraid to leave the city life he’d always known but Steve had made ranch life sound so romantic, if a little lonely. And Jan was right–he was also a little afraid that he’d thrive away from everything and everyone he’d known.

 

Tony sighed and reached for the cup of warm milk, holding the edge of the rim to his bottom lip to breathe in the scent slowly. Maybe he should just drink his milk and go to bed. Maybe he’d be able to figure out what to say if he slept on it. He tipped his cup so he could take a sip, luxuriating in the silkiness of the milk and the smoothness of the honey mixed into it, with just a little woodiness from some fresh nutmeg. This would definitely help him get some restful sleep so he could answer Steve tomorrow.

 

Jarvis jerked the door open and poked his head back inside. “I forgot all about cottage pie!”

 

Tony jumped, spraying milk from his mouth in surprise.

 

“…I’ll bring a towel,” Jarvis said, and closed the door again.

 

Tony scowled after him, wrinkling his nose a little, before he grabbed a handkerchief and turned to blot at the letter to Steve. It was ruined though. He sighed and turned his attention to the finished and addressed envelopes, glad that they, at least, weren’t too terribly damaged.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Not damaged, just a little sticky,” Ana said lightly as she waved a couple of envelopes to help dry them. “Edwin, I can’t believe you forgot all about cottage pie. That’s one of the simplest beef dishes. You  _like_ cottage pie!”

 

“But you don’t,” Jarvis pointed out reasonably, carefully blotting one of the damper envelopes dry. “Why would I make something that you don’t like to eat?”

 

Ana looked taken aback. “Oh, I–Edwin, you don’t have to stop fixing dishes just because I don’t like them!”

 

Jarvis lifted his head to frown at her severely. “Ana, my dear, please don’t take this too personally, but that is the daftest thing I’ve ever been told. ‘Make me eat something I hate.’ Preposterous,” he muttered, returning to blotting the envelope in front of him.

 

Ana gaped at him, then narrowed her eyes, lips pursing. Her eyes darted between her husband and the envelopes in her hands. She looked like she was seriously considering slinging the letters at his head.

 

Tony doubted they would hurt Jarvis too much, but he hurriedly snatched them from her grasp anyway. It would be just their luck if Jarvis got a nasty paper cut to the face. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure they’re fine now.”

 

“I will arm myself with other ammunition,” Ana informed him solemnly.

 

“Dear,” Jarvis said flatly. “You almost never hit me, and when you do, you are always,  _always_  horrified. Why do you continue to do this to yourself.”

 

“Just for this, I’m making dinner tomorrow,” Ana sniffed. She turned to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Goodnight, Anthony,” she said gently, before sticking her nose up in the air and strutting out of the room.

 

“Ana,” Jarvis hissed, appalled, as he rushed after her. He paused in the doorway to give a slight bow and distracted ‘goodnight, sir’ before continuing after her. “Ana, I’ve already bought everything for fish and chips. I’m even brining the fish already. Ana your fish always come out dry. ANA. PLEASE.”

 

Tony giggled to himself as Ana shouted back, “Well your chips are garbage!” He knew they’d make up before they went to bed. They always did. They might bicker, but it was all in good fun. They knew their strengths and tried to cover each other’s weaknesses. Ana couldn’t cook very well, so Jarvis did it instead. Jarvis wasn’t always great at shedding his duties and being the comfort Tony needed, so Ana stepped in to hug him instead. Hopefully he and Steve could gain a rapport like that, helpful and playful and snarky, with no real heat.

 

He wanted a marriage like that, he thought, organizing the dried envelopes. He paused, wondering… Could he have a marriage like that? Jarvis and Ana had courted in person, but Ana herself had once said that their courtship had been sped up by impending war. Jarvis had said what Obadiah was doing him was like a war. Could… could his marriage to Steve become a marriage like Ana and Jarvis’s?

 

Tony sat down at the table again and picked up his pen, finally sure of what he wanted to say.

 

_Dear Steve,_

_I’m very happy too. I thought about running out and shouting to the skies, too, but I doubt my neighbors would like it very much. I hope very much that our marriage will be a happy one. I’m quite looking forward to getting to know you personally. Sometimes I imagine what you look like. I imagine a kind face. I guess I’ll soon find out. I’m excited to._

_Please let me know when a good time to come would be, and I’ll make arrangements. I know you said that you have to drive the cattle, but I don’t know when the time to do that is. I don’t want to be in the way, and to be quite honest, I also don’t want to be home alone with you gone more than a few days in a new place. I’d like time to establish myself as your mate and maybe make some friends before that happens. I hope you can understand._

_In the meantime, Steve, what’s your favorite dessert? What do you like to eat? I’d like to learn to make a few of your favorites before I come. ~~My butl~~   ~~Jarv~~  My  ~~fa~~  friend is teaching me a few things. I can make bread and roast a chicken, and he’s promised to teach me how to make a roast and cottage pie. His wife has also promised me that she’ll teach me to make goulash. But I can’t feed you off of four meals alone. What ingredients would I have most on-hand? I want to make sure I’m a good housekeeper for you._

_I want to make sure I’m a good mate for you. I hope I’ll live up to your expectations._

 

Tony hesitated, hand hovering at the bottom of the letter, before he bit his bottom lip, blushing, and signed it.

 

_Sincerely,_

_Tony_


	5. Chapter 5

Tony was able to beg off attending two more parties with the Stanes, but eventually, a party was scheduled that he actually wanted to go to. Susan Storm was hosting, and he loved Susan. He didn’t quite understand why she was allowing herself to be courted by Reed Richards, of course, but he supposed Reed must have some sort of redeeming quality. (He and Jan couldn’t think of one, but Susan wasn’t stupid, and her little brother Johnny was very protective of her and didn’t mind Reed too much; not to mention, Reed’s friend Ben was a doll. Clearly there was something about him they liked.)

 

So Tony sent a response saying he would be there, and then promptly fled to Jan’s home in a cold sweat over what to do.

 

“You’ll wear the red and marigold suit I gave you, is what you’ll do,” Jan scoffed, not looking away from the dress form she was currently working on.

 

Tony took a moment to mourn the fact that the lacy negligee wasn’t for him, nor the pretty satin robe and petticoat on her other dress forms. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

“Come hold this lace for me,” Jan ordered, and waited for him to obey before asking, “What are you worried about?”

 

“Ezekiel might be there,” Tony replied immediately.

 

Jan turned to look at him, mouth set into a grim line. “I already told him that if he touches you while you’re wearing the clothes I made for you, I would make him eat his own hands.”

 

“Obadiah won’t be there, so he has nothing to keep him in line,” Tony continued, shoulders hunching. “He’d pretend he didn’t want to slobber all over me if his father was there, but if he’s not–”

 

“I will make him eat his own hands,” Jan cut in.

 

Tony frowned at her. “Jan. I know that. And  _you_  know that. But Ezekiel thinks you’re joking.”

 

“It will be such a shame when I make him eat his own hands,” Jan lamented, turning back to the negligee. “Perhaps they’ll let me sew in prison.”

 

“You wouldn’t get caught,” Tony scoffed, but frowned at her anyway. “Does Hank have a friend in town I could hang off of for the night? What about that one friend, what is his name–”

 

“Henry is courting someone, unfortunately,” Jan sighed.

 

Tony sighed. “The one time your beau could have helped me out and his friend had to go and–ow! Jan!”

 

“My needle slipped,” Jan deadpanned, but batted his hand away so he wouldn’t get blood on the lace. “Sorry. It’s just–it’s not Hank or Henry’s faults that Ezekiel is a slime-ball.”

 

“I know,” Tony said meekly, and stuck his pricked finger into his mouth.

 

“I’ll tell Hank he doesn’t need to come and we’ll be each other’s chaperone. How’s that?” Jan asked after some thought.

 

Tony frowned, pulling his finger out of his mouth just long enough to mumble, “I wouldn’t want to put Hank out…”

 

“Oh, Hank hates these parties,” Jan sniffed. “But you know him. He prefers being by himself in a lab than making small talk. Alphas are such boors. How they’d manage without us, I don’t know.” She tilted her head thoughtfully before adding, “Also now I’ll be able to be by your side so Ezekiel won’t have a chance at putting his hands on you. I’m pretty sure even that dolt can understand how willing I am to put him in the ground.”

 

“We’re not five anymore, Jan,” Tony said, but he was fighting a smile. “I’m not a big crybaby who needs to be protected anymore.”

 

She turned to offer him one of the most derisive scowls he’d ever seen. “You may not be a big crybaby but I’m still going to protect you. You’re my best friend, and life dealt you a useless hand. Of course I’m going to do what I can to make life easier for you when it’s possible.”

 

Tony’s smile went watery. “I doubt you tackling Ezekiel to the floor and strangling him with your belt would make my life easier, Jan.”

 

“You wouldn’t have to deal with Ezekiel anymore,” Jan pointed out.

 

“Yes, but then I’d have to break you out of jail, and then we’d both be fugitives. I can’t imagine Steve would want to marry a fugitive.”

 

Jan pursed her lips, unwilling to concede. Then she smirked, smug. “ _I_  think Steve would find you even more attractive if he thought you were dangerous.”

 

“But I wouldn’t be dangerous,” Tony pointed out. “You’d be the murderer in this scenario, not me.”

 

“Steve doesn’t need to know that,” Jan scoffed.

 

One of the maids announced Hank before Tony could say anything else (mostly “Janet, no!”), and Tony was immediately mortified. “Jan! You didn’t tell me you had a date with Hank! I’ll leave–”

 

“My foot you’ll leave,” Jan cut in immediately. “Show him in please, Samantha!”

 

Hank entered a few moments later, looking quite put out. “Jan, I didn’t know you had a friend with you. I’ll leave–”

 

“Oh, pish posh,” Jan cut in, waving him away. “You know each other well enough. It’s not like I was going to sit in your lap anyway, Hank.”

 

“You have literally done that in front of me,” Tony said after a moment of shock. “You have sat on Hank’s lap in front of me at least twice.”

 

“It was uncomfortable. It felt like showing off,” Hank added, agreeing.

 

Jan was incredibly unimpressed. “I  _was_  showing off, Hank. Tony! Keep Hank company while I go get dressed! We’re going out!” she ordered, and flounced out of the room.

 

They watched her go before turning to face each other again, awkward. Hank kept turning his hat in his hands. Tony fidgeted with his jacket.

 

“…I hear you’re engaged,” Hank said after a moment. “I’m… glad to hear that.”

 

“Thank you. It’s a secret engagement at this point though,” Tony admitted. “So, um–please don’t tell anyone.”

 

“Yes, I understand.”

 

They went back to fidgeting.

 

“…Jan tells me that she’s made a new suit for Susan Storm’s party,” Hank said.

 

Tony smiled down at his feet. “Yes, well, she usually does.”

 

“I’m sure it’s a very handsome suit,” Hank said, and then, “Probably some daring color that I would never wear. I should thank you for that–she’s so busy making clothes for you that she doesn’t have time to make more than one suit every once in a while for me.”

 

“I suppose that will change when I go to Steve,” Tony mused.

 

Hank made a very sad noise at the idea. “Oh, yes. That’s probably true.”

 

Jan dashed back into the room, dressed in beautiful light blue dress with a pretty dark blue peacoat with a cinched waist. “Alright! I’m ready!”

 

“Where are we going?” Hank asked fearfully.

 

“Shopping, of course!” Jan answered cheerfully.

 

“Oh, well, if you’re going shopping,” Tony began, trying to squeeze past Hank.

 

Jan scowled at him. “You’re going too, Tony.”

 

Tony squirmed uncomfortably before deciding Hank probably already knew, since Jan had said that Hank hated what was happening to him too. “I… I don’t have any money to go shopping, Jan.”

 

Jan stared at him, silent.

 

“…I’ll get my coat,” Tony said weakly.

 

“Great!” Jan said, beaming, and then took Hank’s arm. “We’ll have to take the carriage, since Father insists I’m not allowed to drive in city limits and his chauffeur is busy.”

 

Hank’s expression conveyed that he wouldn’t allow Jan to drive within city limits either, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say the words. “Alright.”

 

.-.-.-.

 

Hank was overjoyed when he learned that he didn’t have to go to Susan’s party. Tony was pretty sure he was so happy that he could have dropped to one knee and actually proposed then and there except then Jan would have told him no for being so completely unromantic. So instead he just happily let Jan drag them around the department store, holding each and every bag and box she was given as she purchased things.

 

Jan eventually dragged them over to the perfumes. “Hank, I know you like my lavender perfume, but–”

 

“I like the way you smell whatever you wear,” Hank cut in. “You could dab cabbage juice behind your ears and I’d like it.”

 

“…That’s not quite the compliment you think it is, but I’ll accept it,” Jan said after a moment. “I’m going to use this perfume to make all of the alphas incredibly jealous that I already have a beau.”

 

“If that’s what you want, dear,” Hank answered obediently.

 

Tony made a face at them behind their backs. “Gross.”

 

“I’m going to make you wear my awful Midnight Rose perfume,” Jan warned.

 

Tony, wisely, moved further down the counter to examine soaps. He paused, hovering by the fancier ones. He could probably charge it to the house expense account. They used soap after all. And if Obadiah found out it was fancy soap instead of the regular lye soap Jarvis usually bought, well… Tony supposed he could demure and insist he wanted to smell nice for Ezekiel. They might let their guards down a little then.

 

None of the soaps had rose petals in them, though. He found himself dreadfully disappointed about it.

 

Hank came to stand by him, likely to avoid Jan making him try on perfume himself. “Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?”

 

“No, just… I was looking for something and they don’t have it,” Tony admitted. It would have been a cute joke, showing up with the soap Steve’s mother always used to wash his mouth out. He tapped his finger against his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Hank? Did your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap?”

 

“I never really swore,” Hank replied, shrugging.

 

“Oh,” Tony said. He hadn’t either, really. But then, he’d never been kicked by a steer.

 

“But, that being said,” Hank coughed, looking everywhere but at the soap counter. “If you’re looking for a particularly awful taste, I’d go with anything that has lilies in it.”

 

Tony couldn’t help a shocked giggle. “Oh!”

 

“Not that I was ever made to eat any,” Hank added hastily, glancing at Jan.

 

“I’m sure,” Tony agreed. He glanced between them for a moment before leaning in and whispering, “I doubt Janet wouldn’t mind. At all.”

 

Hank stared at him. “…What does that mean?”

 

“Alphas, honestly,” Tony sneered, and went back over to Jan with a huff.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Thank you for escorting us to the store, Hank,” Jan said, pleased.

 

“You’re welcome,” Hank replied, smiling at her.

 

Jan smiled back at him, then smacked Tony’s arm with the back of her hand. “Leave.”

 

“Ow! All you had to do was say something!” Tony exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

 

“Be useful and take something up to my room,” Jan said imperiously. “But you might want to hurry if you don’t want to watch me smooching Hank.”

 

Tony grabbed the top three boxes Hank had deposited in the entryway and fled, because he loved Jan, and Hank was nice enough, but he didn’t want to see them kissing.

 

He nearly bashed into Samantha in his hurry to get inside Jan’s room. “Oh! Samantha! I’m so sorry!”

 

“It’s alright, sir,” the maid told him, smiling. “I know you wouldn’t have knocked me down.”

 

“Spoken like someone who Jan has knocked down,” Tony answered, smiling reluctantly, and the beta laughed. “Will I be in your way if I stay here?”

 

“Oh, no,” Samantha answered quickly. “I wasn’t cleaning–just delivering Miss Jan’s correspondence. I hear you’re engaged,” she added in a whisper, leaning in. “I just want to say–I’m very happy for you, sir. The Stanes–well. Servants talk. Even if only half of it’s true…” She looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m very,  _very_  happy about your engagement, sir.”

 

Tony felt hot with mortification, and then cold with terror. If even the help was happy he wasn’t going to the Stanes… What happened in that house? He was so lucky he’d been allowed to stay in his own home with Jarvis and Ana.

 

“Thank you, Samantha,” Tony said after a moment. “I do appreciate that.”

 

“Sir, if your engagement falls through,” Samantha began, then stopped, and instead reached out to grab his hands. She gave them a squeeze, looking deeply upset, before fleeing the room.

 

Tony turned to watch her go, stunned, and maybe just a little bit scared. He’d never considered that the Stanes could be worse beyond their treatment of him, but he’d never really had the stomach to think about what happened behind the Stanes’ doors. To know that the servants gossiped to each other, and were afraid for him, that… that was something new. Something that made the prospect of having to marry Ezekiel even  _more_  terrible.

 

Tony sat at Jan’s desk and clasped his hands in his lap to try and stop them shaking. He didn’t want Jan to see how upset he was. She’d doubtlessly demand to know why, and he’d never been good at lying to her. She’d probably go and interrogate the maids for more information. There was no reason to worry about that now. He was engaged to marry Steve. And if… if somehow it did fall through, the beta he’d been corresponding with had volunteered to house him on the west coast. He wasn’t trapped here.

 

When he started fidgeting, Tony reached out to look through Jan’s correspondence. She’d said that organizing it had helped her when she got stuck on a design. Maybe having something to do with his hands would help ground him, too.

 

Some of it was correspondence for him. He began going through it faster, hopeful, and let out a triumphant ‘ah ha!’ when he found a letter from Steve. He’d been waiting on pins and needles for it. Hopefully this letter would tell him how long he’d have to endure Ezekiel before he could go to Steve. He groped blindly for a letter opener and nearly snarled when he couldn’t find one, pulling open a few drawers and slamming them shut again.

 

Finally, impatient, he peeled it open, letting out the quietest of curses and then frantically looking around just in case someone heard. Then he remembered he wasn’t at home and there was no Jarvis to box his ears over it, and hurriedly turned back to the letter, nearly bouncing in his seat when he realized there was another drawing in the envelope.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I’ve been imagining what you look like ever since I got your first letter, so you’re not alone. I think about it all the time while I’m out on the range, and it’s gotten me through many long, hot days. I imagine beautiful eyes, and a soft, cheeky smile. I asked my best friend if he’d consider my face kind. He mostly just called me a sentimental idiot, so take that as you will. I’ve enclosed a drawing one of my cowhands’ children drew of me. I think it’s an excellent likeness, or at least as much of one as can be made outside of a stenograph._

_I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, because I’m afraid the fact might intimidate you, but… almost everyone in town bullied me into staying home from the cattle drive when they realized I was serious about you. They didn’t want me to miss a single one of your letters. I don’t think I mentioned it before, but my best friend, James, he’s my partner on the ranch. We both have equal shares. Usually I’m the one that goes on drives because I don’t have a family at home, but when he saw me getting serious, ~~he volunteered to~~  well, no, he didn’t volunteer. He told me point blank that I was to stay home and answer your letters so I didn’t ‘miss my chance’ with you or he would tie me to a chair so I wouldn’t have a choice. He should be back from the drive soon. I’m here until next summer, when we have to drive the cattle again, so you can come anytime you want, sweetheart._

_My favorite dessert is pound cake, so hopefully that’s not too difficult for you to learn. If not, I can teach you how to make it. I know how to make it myself, I just… don’t normally have time. But I’d find the time for you._

_As for other meals, the items you’d have most on hand are eggs, milk, and flour, always. For meat I typically have some sort of pork or a cut of beef. Fowl isn’t my favorite meal, but I’ll eat it, and I’m sure an east coast roasted chicken is much different from a mid-western one. Plus I’ll eat mostly anything, even if it’s bad. Not that you’ll make anything that’s bad, of course! Just know that if you’re experimenting and not sure of how something turned out, don’t ask me. I just love not being hungry. Sorry if that isn’t any help. It’s a fault of mine, being a bottomless pit._

_If you’ll send me a letter detailing your travel plans, I will meet you at the train station. I understand it could take a while, what with having to earn money for the train. Please keep me informed. I don’t like the thought of you waiting on the platform for me, and my daft ass just wandering about my ranch. I hope to see you soon, Tony._

_Sincerely,  
Steve_

 

“Sweetheart,” Tony whispered, blushing. Steve had called him ‘sweetheart.’ How… how  _romantic_. He covered his face for a moment with a squeak, trying to get hold of his emotions. Then he remembered the drawing and perked up. If he could just see what Steve looked like, even in the vaguest sense–

 

Tony stared at the drawing for a few long seconds before letting out a screech of laughter, unable to help himself. And then he couldn’t stop.

 

“What?!” Jan asked, bursting into the room. “What? What is it?!”

 

Tony waved the drawing around helplessly. “A p-picture of Ste-he-heve!” he laughed, hugging his stomach. God, he hadn’t given himself a bellyache from laughing in  _years_.

 

“A picture of Steve?!” Jan asked, excited, and held the drawing up. She stared at it for several minutes, silent, until Tony’s laughs faded into giggles. “Tony,” she said seriously. “I’m sorry that you’re just marrying a brown and yellow blob. Hopefully your children will take after you.”

 

“Jan, no!” Tony howled, falling into laughter again.

 

Jan cackled and lunged at him, fingers dancing along his sides, and then squealed when he gave back as good as he got.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Susan was as lovely as ever. Reed was… Reed.

 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean that to be as offensive as it came out,” Susan said hurriedly as Ben yanked Reed away before Jan could stab his eye out with her cocktail fork. “I’m sorry Tony. Please don’t let Jan stab Reed’s eye out.”

 

“Jan,” Tony said chidingly.

 

Jan’s face did something supremely unattractive, but no one was foolish enough to point it out. “Reed,” she hissed. “Apologize.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Reed said immediately.

 

“Ben, get him out of my sight,” she added through gritted teeth.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben said agreeably, and Tony assumed that Reed was about to get the scolding of his life as he was dragged away.

 

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” Susan repeated softly, mortified. “Reed shouldn’t have said that.”

 

“I mean… he shouldn’t have, no, but the face he made when Jan asked him to repeat what he said was funny,” Tony admitted. “I thought all the blood just drained from his body.”

 

Susan giggled reluctantly. “I’m–still sorry. Please ask one of the caterers to spruce up your punch, courtesy of Reed of course.”

 

“One day you’ll get him fully trained,” Tony joked. “Although having his life flash before his eyes will probably keep him from mentioning how awful my life is to my face ever again.”

 

Susan winced. “Yes.”

 

“Let’s go get our punch spruced,” Tony suggested gently, sliding his arm through Jan’s. “And make the rounds before we meet Susan again and gossip about what everyone’s wearing.”

 

“…Alright,” Jan said stiffly.

 

“I’ll have Johnny and Ben keep Reed occupied so we can gossip freely,” Susan offered.

 

Jan lifted her chin magnanimously. “Reed will live another day.”

 

“Honestly, Jan, do you have to terrify everybody?” Susan sighed, shoulders sagging.

 

Jan sniffed. “Tony isn’t terrified of me.”

 

Tony puffed his chest out proudly. “She can’t afford to kill me because I’m the only one who will listen to her talk about fabric for hours on end!”

 

“…Mm,” Susan agreed after a moment. “That’s true. Make sure to get a good look at Raven’s dress! She’s done something with charmeuse and I want your opinion on whether or not I can pull it off.”

 

“Charmeuse!” Jan gasped. “In that shade of blue?! I wonder if she can tell me where she bought it…”

 

“I’ll go top off our drinks,” Tony offered. “And you can go interrogate Raven on her charmeuse.”

 

Jan handed her champagne flute to him and flounced off immediately, gleeful. Tony watched her go fondly.

 

“I  _am_  really sorry about Reed, Tony,” Susan insisted one last time, voice soft. “That was so humiliating, I–”

 

“Don’t worry about it. We all know Reed isn’t… consumed with propriety,” he finally said after some thought. “I knew he’d probably say something awful tonight. Alphas just… aren’t concerned with that kind of thing.”

 

Susan still looked unhappy. “I’m going to set him straight. Don’t worry.”

 

“Good luck,” Tony told her, amused, and lifted the champagne flutes. “Well! Can’t say you skimped on the giggles, Susan.”

 

Susan managed a half-hearted smile. “Well, it’s not as if you can’t use it, especially after…  _that_.”

 

“It’s fine,” Tony replied again, smiling, and turned to go to the punch table.

 

All he had to say was ‘Reed told me’ and one of the caterers made a face and pulled a flask from beneath the table. “Say no more, dear,” she said. “Hope you like gin.”

 

“I love gin!” Tony told her happily. “Put more in mine.”

 

“Done,” the caterer said.

 

It was honestly the best interaction he’d had at the entire party.

 

Tony turned from the table, glass in each hand, going up on his tiptoes to look for Jan. Both she and Raven were petite, and he was almost certain that Raven’s beau Max had abandoned the two omegas to their chat, so he couldn’t even depend on his height to find them in the crowd. He resolved to scold Max about this later. He was sure Max would get a kick out of it.

 

“I see you’ve finally ducked your chaperone,” someone said from behind him.

 

All of the blood in Tony’s body went ice cold as as he slowly turned, swallowing thickly when he was met with Ezekiel’s smirking face. “E-Ezekiel,” he said weakly. “I didn’t realize you’d come to the party.”

 

Obadiah hated Reed Richards and the Storm family. Tony had foolishly expected them to turn down the invitation. He should have known better–as soon as Obadiah learned that Tony had accepted the invitation, of course he was going to send Ezekiel to bring him to heel. He’d probably be bullied into going to another of Tiberius’s parties, where he’d be forced to hang on Ezekiel’s arm and pretend to be too dumb and doe-eyed to understand what the alphas were talking about.

 

Ezekiel’s eyes raked up and down his body like a physical touch, so obviously that Tony shivered in disgust and wanted to hide. “Miss Van Dyne made that suit for you, didn’t she? It’s quite flattering.”

 

“Yes, well, most of Janet’s designs are,” Tony said, trying covertly to look for Jan again, grip on the glasses tightening so much he feared for their structural integrity. He wished fervently that Jan would sense his distress and come rescue him.

 

“The yellow washes you out, but the red makes you look delectable,” Ezekiel added, reaching out for him.

 

Tony carefully, casually ducked his hand, letting out a nervous laugh. “Don’t let Jan hear you say that.”

 

“I’m not afraid of Jan,” Ezekiel replied blithely, advancing on him again. He grabbed Tony’s elbow to keep him from backing away. “How about a dance, Tony?”

 

“I–I–S-Susan is expecting me,” Tony said, voice shaking, and tried to pull away, but the alpha’s grip tightened so much it started to hurt. “Mm-!”

 

Ezekiel jerked him back towards him, smile going mean around the edges. “Tony, come on. You’ve missed two parties. I can’t have my fiancée turn down a dance with me when we’re finally at a party together. People will talk.”

 

Tony prickled with anger, and he scowled, whispering, “I’m  _not_  your fiancée. I don’t want to marry you.” He was Steve’s fiancée and no one else’s. Especially not Ezekiel’s.

 

“Sweetheart,” Ezekiel drawled, resting his free hand on Tony’s hip and casually sliding it back to grasp a handful of cheek. “You must know that you don’t really have a choice.”

 

Rage and disgust burned heavy and hot in his breast. Tony gulped down a breath to try and calm himself down, but his blood was pounding in his ears in anger. How dare Ezekiel touch him like this in front of all of his friends! How dare Ezekiel presume that Tony was his fiancée, especially without the courtesy of asking him! How dare Ezekiel speak to and treat him like a petulant child who was throwing a tantrum!

 

_How dare he call Tony sweetheart after Steve had and make it sound disgusting._

 

“I’m not your fiancée,” Tony whispered harshly. “And you’re not mine. Take your hands off of me at once. You have no right to be so familiar with me.”

 

Ezekiel’s face did something ugly before settling on anger as well, and Tony felt a real thrill of fear when the alpha grabbed his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “You listen to me, you spoiled brat,” he growled. “ _You don’t have a choice_.”

 

“I do!” Tony snapped back immediately, because he did, he did have a choice, and he’d made it, and he was going to marry Steve. “I do have a choice, and even your father can’t take that away from me! I’m not going to marry you because I’m engaged to marry someone else!”

 

It took a moment for the haze of anger to pass, and for Tony to realize what he’d said, and for him to notice how quiet it had gotten around him. He turned his head a little, mortified when he saw all of the other party-goers staring at him in shock. He looked back up at Ezekiel, terrified. Ezekiel still looked angry, but he also looked stunned, as if Tony had slapped him, his grip on his shoulders going lax.

 

This might be his only chance.

 

Tony tried to pull away and almost managed it, but then Ezekiel’s fingers bit into his flesh again, and he let out a deep growl. “Get off me!” Tony shouted, startling him into actually letting go, because he’d never done anything but demurely suffer through his attentions before. He threw the drinks into Ezekiel’s face and fled as he screamed, the alcohol burning his eyes.

 

Tony wished he’d gotten to take a sip of his drink, he lamented as he fled out of the room, sprinting past the coatroom because he couldn’t afford to stop. He really needed one.

 

Once outside, the reality of the situation hit him. Ezekiel would doubtlessly come for him once he recovered, and he would be pissed. He’d ridden here with Jan in her father’s motorcar, but would the chauffeur take him without Jan? And where would he go? Home? Ezekiel would only follow him, getting madder and madder, and then he’d know the house so Tony wouldn’t even have a chance to hide from him. Jarvis and Ana wouldn’t have a  _chance_  against an angry alpha.

 

“Come on,” someone said sharply, grabbing his arm.

 

Tony fought reflexively as he was dragged down the front steps at a run, but stopped when he recognized who had a grip on him. “Reed!”

 

“Come on,” Reed said again, tugging on him, and he stumbled a little before finally matching his pace. Reed had his own motorcar. Tony didn’t know where they were going, but at least it was away.

 

Tony waited until the car had roared past the gates before he called out, “Thank you, Reed! You didn’t have to do this!”

 

Reed shrugged uncomfortably. “Listen,” he shouted over the engine, and took a corner perhaps a little too fast. “I know I’m not good at this socializing thing. I only do it for Susan. But I don’t like the Stanes and I don’t like alphas that harass omegas who want nothing to do with them. And I  _especially_  don’t like alphas taking advantage of their station to bully the omegas that depend on them. So… I  _am_  sorry for what I said earlier. And I hope you have a plan because I sure as hell didn’t beyond ‘get Tony away from the party.’”

 

“Take me home!” Tony answered. “I’ll figure out what to do there!”

 

“The Stanes will come after you there,” Reed argued. “Ben and Johnny are going to slow Ezekiel down but they can’t do much without ending up in jail. We’ve only got a little time.”

 

“Jarvis will know what to do!” Tony told him, then sat back in his seat, whispering, “Jarvis always knows what to do when I’m in trouble.”

 

.-.-.-.

 

Jarvis was waiting in the entryway for them with two large carpetbags. Tony knew, in that moment, that if he left, he would never be able to come home again.

 

And the Jarvises would make him go.

 

Tony ran to Jarvis immediately, throwing his arms around him, and didn’t care that Reed was there to see it. “Jarvis!”

 

“Word travels fast, dear,” Ana told him gently as she grabbed a coat from the closet for him. “Especially when Edwin knows the Storms’ doorman.”

 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Tony whispered helplessly, even though he knew that he didn’t really have a choice.

 

Jarvis squeezed his arms around him tightly without a word.

 

“Edwin,” Ana said gently, sounding so, so sad. “Edwin, he doesn’t have much time.”

 

Jarvis pulled away from Tony, blinking quickly, and sniffed once. Then he was all business again, helping Ana button Tony’s coat and then lifting one of the bags to put into Tony’s hands. “Unfortunately I couldn’t fit anything of much value in these.”

 

“Jarvis,” Tony whispered, swallowing thickly.

 

“Just a few of your mother’s things that I was able to hide from Obadiah. Your father’s favorite book. The book on gardening you were taking the most notes about.”

 

“Jarvis!” Tony whispered again, eyes filled with tears.

 

Jarvis cupped his cheeks, hands fluttering as if he didn’t know where to touch, how to convey how much he loved him. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Anthony,” he finally said, then leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

Tony choked back a sob. “I wouldn’t have done it without you, Jarvis. You and Ana. I’m like this because of you.”

 

“And you have no idea how proud that makes us, darling,” Ana replied, tears in her eyes even though she was smiling, as she gently pulled him into a tight hug as well. “We’ve sent word. Janet’s father is expecting you. The Stanes won’t be able to get to you there.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Reed cut in before Tony could say anything, looking out the door nervously. “But we don’t have much time.”

 

Tony took the other bag from Ana’s shaking hand and allowed them to gently push him toward the door. Reed reached out to take the bags, looking pained, and carried them to his car. Tony turned and gave Jarvis one last kiss and lingering hug before turning to step out the door. He would never be able to come home after this.

 

“We love you, Tony,” Ana said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

 

Jarvis gave him the gentlest of shoves over the threshold and whispered, “Don’t look back, Tony.”

 

Ana shut the door before he  _could_  turn and look at them one last time. It felt very final.

 

Tony stood frozen, hands gripped into fists, stunned. He wanted to run back inside and never leave. He wanted to be by Ana and Jarvis’s sides for always.

 

Instead he straightened his shoulders and walked down the steps from the mansion, silently getting into Reed’s car, careful to keep his head high and face forward. He would do this last thing Jarvis had asked of him. He would not look back. Not when Jarvis could see him doing it.

 

Reed was blessedly silent. Tony listened to the roar of the engine and imagined it was a bit like how his feelings sounded now–loud, and angry, but continually chugging forward. He whispered a ‘thank you’ that couldn’t be heard over the engine when Reed handed him a handkerchief to wipe the tears from his face.

 

The mansion was no longer his home. He had to keep pushing forward. He had to keep moving toward Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I am getting really tired of people saying "please update soon" within literal hours of me posting the newest chapter. My real life is kicking my ass. Show a little respect for that please.


	6. Chapter 6

“Tony!” Jan cried as soon as he pushed the door to Reed’s car open, running to embrace him. “I’m sorry! If I’d known Ezekiel was there, I never would have—”

 

Tony clutched at her, burying his face in her shoulder. “ _Jan_.”

 

“Tony,” Jan whispered again, gripping his coat with white knuckles. She let go with one hand to instead lift it and gently run her fingers through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp the way she knew he liked. “Oh, Tony. I’m so sorry.”

 

“I’ve ruined everything,” Tony whispered.

 

Jan leaned back to frown at him sternly. “You’ve ruined nothing at all,” she informed him imperiously, her tone just daring him to argue. “We’ll figure something out, Tony.”

 

“But Obadiah will be watching the train stations now,” Tony whispered, shaking. “And he’ll have someone waiting outside the gates for the chance to snatch me up anyway now that I’ve shown I was planning to escape. Oh, Jan, I never even got the chance to learn how to make pound cake for Steve,” he moaned around a hitch of breath.

 

Jan said nothing, just swallowed around the lump in her throat as she continued gently scratching over his scalp.

 

“Johnny and I could cause trouble,” Reed offered. “And I know this would be the sort of thing Ben wouldn’t mind getting caught up in.”

 

Jan offered him a smile, apparently deeming his offer enough to forgive him for his horrible statement earlier that night. “Oh, Reed, thanks. We’ll keep that in mind, but hopefully we’ll figure something out that _won’t_ put anyone in danger of being arrested or put on Stane’s bad side.”

 

Reed raised an eyebrow. “You mean anyone other than you.”

 

“Stane wouldn’t dare cross me and mine,” Vernon said sharply from the doorway, making the younger alpha yelp. “Anthony, Janet, come inside at once before you catch cold.” _Before someone sees Tony and it gets back to Stane,_ he didn’t say, but he didn’t need to, and gently touched Tony’s back as Jan helped him inside. He turned back to Reed and inclined his head just slightly. “It appears you’re not a total nincompoop, Richards.”

 

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time to prove you wrong, unfortunately,” Reed replied, taking out the two carpet bags that he’d put in the boot of his motorcar. “Have a good night, sir.”

 

Vernon nodded and took the bags from him, carrying them inside before one of the maids could scurry out and try and grab them first. If one of the maids slammed the door harder than she usually did as soon as he was inside, he decided not to mention it, frowning when he found his daughter and her friend curled up on the couch in the den. He’d known that Jan and Tony had hatched some sort of plot to foil Obadiah Stane, but he’d never thought that it would come to this.

 

He’d thought it had been a fun joke, not an actual escape from a marriage Tony hadn’t wanted.

 

“Daddy, what do we do?” Jan asked, voice shaking.

 

Jan was such a strong girl, a strong omega, that sometimes when he saw her like this, it jarred him. Vernon didn’t know what to do. On one hand, Tony was obviously so terrified that he could not possibly even fathom the idea of handing the omega over. On the other, even with all of the prestige, power, and money behind the Van Dyne name, he wasn’t entirely willing to put it out there that Tony was under his protection, especially when Stane still technically had custody of him, or at least the Stark fortune. That could start an entirely different legal mess.

 

“I don’t know,” Vernon admitted. “But I’ll buy as much time as I can, Janet.”

 

Jan’s eyes filled with new tears even as she whispered, “Thank you, Daddy.” Then she leaned down to press her lips to the crown of Tony’s head as he continued to cry into her lap.

 

Vernon hovered in the doorway a little longer before turning and handing the carpet bags to one of the maids to take to a guest room. He knew Tony probably wouldn’t sleep in it, but he’d give him the illusion of privacy, if nothing else.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tony had been hidden in Jan’s room for two days when a telegram arrived.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss,” Samantha said contritely, frowning. “But they insist it’s addressed to the right person.”

 

Jan frowned but accepted the envelope. “Thank you, Samantha.”

 

Tony saw that the telegram was addressed to Janice Van Dyne and, despite his terror, despite his anxiety and distress, he began to laugh.

 

“What?” Jan asked, brows furrowing together. “What is it?”

 

Tony, helpless, merely pointed at the envelope in her hands.

 

Jan frowned at him a little longer before turning it over. Then she let out the longest, loudest groan he’d ever heard. “ _Doom_.”

 

Tony tried to smother his laughter with his hands, but it didn’t work.

 

“One of these days I’m going to find out why Victor calls me that,” Jan hissed, even as she carefully ripped the telegram open. “It’s gone too far to be a friendly joke. He doesn’t even shorten it to call me ‘Jan.’”

 

Tony tried to say something, but all that came out was a somewhat squeaky and hysterical snort.

 

Jan pursed her lips at him, entirely unamused, then opened the telegram to read it. “Honestly, Tony, it’s not that funny—” She stopped, frowning in confusion, before reaching out and grabbing his wrist. “Tony.”

 

Tony sobered immediately at the tone, giggles fading under her concerned frown. “Jan?”

 

“I-? Think Doom’s trying to help you?” she squeaked back, sounding mostly confused but also slightly, cautiously, optimistic.

 

“Victor von Doom. Is trying to help. Me,” Tony repeated slowly in disbelief.

 

Victor von Doom was, perhaps, the snobbiest omega on the east coast. Of course, he was also the richest omega on the east coast, and most alphas were willing to look the other way when he committed a faux pas just to be on the receiving end of some of his fortune. If the Van Dynes were considered Old Money, Victor von Doom was considered Oldest Money; his father was higher up in social circles (some people even whispered about Victor being the heir to the Latverian throne) and had sent him to America to find a suitable alpha to wed to open up commerce for his company.

 

When Victor had written back, “I like it better here so I’m staying,” his father had only upped his allowance to pay for a place to live permanently and some security with the promise that he come back when he was thirty-five if he wasn’t married yet, and the soft order to ‘try and find an alpha with social standing if he could.’

 

Victor von Doom had never gone out of his way not to sneer down his nose at Tony as if the position he was in was his fault, so Tony had no idea why he would try to help him now.

 

“Here,” Jan said gently, handing him the telegram.

 

Tony took it reluctantly.

 

**Janice,  
** **I am sending this via telegram because time is of the essence. My aunt in Maine is sick and I wish to visit her, but my father insists I need an omega companion to come with me. I have chosen you for this. We will be gone several weeks, so pack for that. Also bring an empty trunk for the souvenirs I will buy for you as payment for coming with me. I will meet you at the train station at half past eight tomorrow morning. Do not disappoint me.  
** **Victor von Doom**

 

“...Why wouldn’t he just send a letter,” Tony whispered after a moment. “It would have been cheaper to get a personal messenger than pay for this telegram.”

 

“Why is _that_ what you’re focused on when _twice_ he’s called me ‘Janice’ in writing?!” Jan exclaimed irritably.

 

“He calls you that in person so I’m not surprised,” Tony replied, reading over the telegram again and ignoring the way she squawked in outrage. God, it had probably cost more than the groceries Ana and Jarvis bought for the week. He read it a third time, just to be sure, before looking back up at Jan and frowning. “How is this helping me?”

 

Jan frowned at him severely, in the same way she frowned at him when she thought he asked foolish questions about her fabric choices right before she changed his life with a new suit. “Tony,” she said, voice dripping with derision. “How would you have survived without me?”

 

“I wouldn’t have,” Tony told her sincerely.

 

Jan appeared touched and dismayed all at once. Tony was disappointed to say she looked like that when it came to him a lot.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“It’ll be weird if you have three trunks,” Tony insisted for the fifth time.

 

“It’s me, so no it won’t,” Jan sniffed. “Just because you can fit your life in two trunks—”

 

“I could fit weeks’ worth of things in one,” Tony said.

 

Jan sniffed at him again. It wasn’t like she was just taking _clothes_ or anything—she was taking projects, swatches of fabric and baskets of thread and needle. And she was going to hold Victor to buying her some souvenirs, too. So she needed the trunks. (She didn’t tell him she was bringing a fourth trunk and would probably buy more in Maine, because his side-eye had been lethal over just three.)

 

Instead of continuing to argue (Tony was delicate right now, it might hurt him too much to lose), she fussed with his carpet bags. “I’m putting lacy stuff on top of you so you shouldn’t have too much trouble breathing.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony said, glancing at the walls of the trunk he was going to be closed inside of.

 

He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous, because he was, a lot. He’d practiced with Jan, and could unscrew the lock from inside by feel so he could get it open, but that was only if his trunk wasn’t on the bottom of a pile of luggage. If that happened, he could only count on the two small holes on each end that her father had drilled for air. Jan had called the train station and they’d estimated the trip to Maine would be at least six hours, maybe longer since she didn’t know which exact stop. He was scared of being locked in a trunk for that long.

 

But he had no other choice. Even if his trunk was on top of a pile, he couldn’t get out of it for fear of being seen.

 

“Here,” Jan whispered, handing him one of the small throw pillows from her chaise lounge. “For your head. It shouldn’t block your air.”

 

Her hands were shaking. Tony didn’t mention it, because his were shaking too. “Thanks.”

 

Jan took a moment to cup his cheek, brush his hair off of his forehead, before she leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll get you out of here, Tony. One way or another, we’ll get you to Steve.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony said again, and offered her the best smile he had in him to give before he curled up on the bottom of the trunk, feet pressed to the carpet bags at the bottom, hugging himself when he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt her begin laying clothes on top of him, whispering, “Jan, I’m scared.”

 

He felt Jan hesitate before she grabbed one of his hands and gave it a squeeze, whispering back, “I am, too.”

 

Tony looked up at her, blinking tears out of his eyes, and gave her a squeeze back. She nodded back solemnly before returning to covering him with clothes.

 

It got scarier when she gently closed the lid and locked the trunk.

 

“You okay, Tony?” Jan asked, voice muffled.

 

“No,” Tony admitted. “But we really don’t have much of a choice now.”

 

“Right,” Jan said unhappily. “Well, here we go, Tony.”

 

Tony nodded to himself, gripping his hands into fists as he whispered, “Here we go.”

 

.-.-.-.

 

They didn’t make it very far, but then, Tony hadn’t really expected them to. Obadiah had probably already had a handful of crooked cops in his pocket even before Tony fled his home with the Jarvises and hidden out at the Van Dyne estate. Obadiah was probably saying something about an omega who had run away from home, who he was “so afraid” for because he had no money, had probably even told them that he was being manipulated and held against his will. Of course they were going to search any vehicle coming out from or going into Jan’s house.

 

He could hear Jan ranting and raving as they opened the doors to pull the trunks from her motorcar, screeching about how she would be late and look here, if she missed her train they’d be hearing from her lawyers. Tony was reluctantly amused by how her voice raised in pitch when one of the cops yelped and dropped something, screeching, “If you damage my dress form I will murder you where you stand! Daddy! _Daddy!_ ”

 

But then the door in front of Tony’s trunk was being opened and it was being dragged out. Tony clapped his hands over his mouth to muffle his startled yelp when his head banged against the side of the trunk he was in as they dropped it to the ground. They’d surely find him if they were searching the trunks, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for them. He heard them opening the other trunks one-by-one and hoped he wasn’t shaking so much it was visible, clammy palms clasped tightly over his mouth.

 

He heard a key being inserted into the lock of his trunk and tried not to flinch as it was wrenched open, frightened squeak muffled behind his hands when someone began pawing through the clothes on top of him. He felt his shirt being tugged on and readied himself to go out swinging—

 

And then the calmest, angriest voice he had ever heard said, “Officer, what are you doing rifling through my daughter’s underthings?”

 

Tony froze, not just from the terror of being found, but because there was now a very, _very_ dangerous alpha in the vicinity.

 

“S-sir,” the officer replied, and Tony swallowed back another yelp when they yanked their hand back and nearly tore his shirt off with it.

 

Jan—clever, _glorious_ Jan—jumped in before anyone else could say anything, sobbing, “Daddy, they were going to go through all of my things! They broke my dress form and—oh, Daddy, I’ve never been so humiliated in my whole life! And now I’m going to be late to the train and Victor’s going to be so upset!”

 

“Janet, return to the vehicle,” Vernon growled.

 

Tony could imagine her haughtily flouncing into the motorcar, knowing the people who stopped her were about to be taken care of. He couldn’t help but wonder, to his surprise, what his own father might have done in the same situation. He’d never know, and he was perhaps a little sadder about that than he’d ever felt previously. Seeing Jan interact with her father… it made him ache for his own parents sometimes, on the oddest occasions.

 

He flinched as the trunk was slammed shut again, yelping into his hands again when it was tossed carelessly back into the car. Luckily it couldn’t be heard over the sound of Vernon yelling, “Get her to the station _now_ ,” and then letting out a furious roar as he turned on the crooked police, or private detectives, or whatever they were.

 

“What is your father doing, Ms. Van Dyne?” Tony heard the driver say, voice once again safely muffled by the trunk.

 

“He’s beating what appears to be the head officer very soundly about the head while the others try and pull him off,” Jan declared proudly, probably pressed up against the window to watch.

 

Tony couldn’t help a somewhat hysterical giggle.

 

“Very good,” the driver said. “I will pass by the police station on my way home to pick him up. Ms. Van Dyne, advise your luggage to stop giggling.”

 

“Tony!” Jan hissed immediately, pushing herself away from the window and toward one of the air holes in the trunk.

 

“We made it,” Tony whispered back, feeling watery with relief. He felt something poking at his pillow and moved it to reach out and delicately take the finger she’d pressed into his air hole, giving it a squeeze. “Jan, we made it.”

 

“Through the first stretch,” Jan allowed. “Do you need anything before we get to the station?”

 

“No, I still have the thermos and sandwiches you gave me.”

 

Jan curled her finger a little, pressing it into his palm. “Alright. Step one is finished. I won’t let my guard down until the train pulls away from the station.”

 

“Are we really going to be late?” Tony asked, concerned.

 

Jan scoffed. “No. We figured this would happen, so Daddy had me leave early just in case. But you know, hysterical omegas, always thinking they’re going to be late.”

 

“But Jan, you _are_ always late,” Tony pointed out, frowning.

 

“Tony,” Jan barked, but he couldn’t understand what she said next because the driver was laughing so hard.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Once Tony felt the train moving underneath him, he decided to reward himself with a quarter of his cucumber sandwich.

 

Jan had wanted to give him something bigger, something with meat and cheese to ‘get him through the trip.’ Tony would forever remember the crushed look on her face when he’d told her that he knew hunger and would prefer not to be given anything at all, nerves tying his stomach in knots along with the fear of having to relieve himself and being unable to. The half-full thermos of water and the cucumber sandwich had been a compromise. And Tony would never admit it to Jan, but once some of the terror bled off and hope was fluttering bright and high in his chest, he was starving.

 

But like he’d told her, he knew hunger, so rationing his sandwich throughout the trip wasn’t a trial for him.

 

Tony decided to wait before trying the lock. He wanted to be well underway before taking any chances, especially with how close they’d come to being caught not even an hour ago. It would also get him used to being in there if he was unlucky enough to have his trunk under another. He squirmed around to pull his pillow further away from the air holes so he could get some more fresh air, then carefully peeled open the waxed cheesecloth the sandwich was packed in.

 

He took a small bite, savoring the flavors of garlicky mayonnaise and cucumber and the lightest dusting of pepper on his tongue. He’d never thought a simple cucumber sandwich could taste so good. Maybe it was the freedom that came with it. He took another bite of the sandwich—

 

And nearly choked on it as the end of the trunk where his feet were jerked upward, slamming his head into the opposite side.

 

Tony froze, terrified, realizing a moment too late that he’d crushed the sandwich quarter in one fist in terror. He thought, in the back of his mind, that he might have ruined several of Jan’s lacy things with the mayonnaise. He would be very sorry about it if he didn’t die from a heart attack first, as it was becoming clear they were not just moving luggage around, but were actively carrying the trunk out of the baggage car.

 

Was this the end? Had he celebrated too early? Had Obadiah and whoever he’d hired found them? He tried to become one with the bottom of the trunk and wondered if he should stay still when it opened to lull them into a false sense of security or if he should lunge up and start swinging as soon as it unlocked.

 

He covered his mouth to muffle his startled, pained yelp as the trunk was dropped on the ground, wondering if all luggage was treated like this or if it was just because they thought someone was in it.

 

“Oh! Please be gentle with my trunks! Someone’s already cracked my dress form!” Jan said, not sounding even slightly upset like she had when she’d been stopped outside her home.

 

Tony couldn’t help but fall limp in relief. If Jan was being pleasant, he had nothing to worry about.

 

“Thank you, gentlemen, I do so appreciate this,” another voice said.

 

Tony figured it was Victor because of the accent and wondered if it was possible to melt, because if there was one thing you could count on Victor for, it was to lose his temper if he even _imagined_ he was being insulted.

 

“No problem, sir. If you need help, don’t hesitate to call on us again!”

 

Tony listened to a door open and close, the sound of several pairs of feet walking away under the noise of the train wheels. He closed his eyes and breathed in, counted to ten, and let the breath back out.

 

Then there was the rattle of keys and the sound of his trunk being unlocked before Jan cried, “Tony!” and began digging through her clothes for him.

 

Tony sat up immediately and wrapped his arms around her neck with a relieved sob. “ _Jan_.”

 

“Oh, Tony, honey,” Jan sighed, hugging him back tightly.

 

They got to enjoy their hug for about a minute before Victor asked, “Are you always this touchy-feely?”

 

“Of course,” Tony said, confused. “Aren’t omegas affectionate with each other where you come from?”

 

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t allowed many friends because the chances of being kidnapped were so high,” Victor said coolly, and then frowned. “Anthony, what is on your face?”

 

Tony was thrown by the sudden change in direction and could only manage to utter an inelegant, “Huh?”

 

Jan leaned back to look at him and snorted before covering her mouth, looking gleeful. “Tony! You have mayonnaise all over your face!”

 

Tony stared at her, uncomprehending, before letting out a mortified groan. “Oh no!” It must have happened when he tried to muffle his yelp after her crushed his sandwich in his hand. He looked down at his hands. They were also covered in mayonnaise. “Oh…”

 

“It’s all over Janice’s hair now,” Victor informed them.

 

Jan was silent for several minutes before she said, “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for your safety, Tony.”

 

Tony didn’t grab for her again, but only barely, instead murmuring a shy, “Sorry…”

 

Victor pulled out his handkerchief and began wiping at Tony’s hands before he could do anything else. “And your shirt is ripped, too.”

 

“I think the man searching my trunk did it,” Tony admitted.

 

Victor looked supremely put out by this information. “Disgusting. You can have one of mine then.”

 

“Thanks, Victor,” Tony said sincerely.

 

Victor went from looking supremely put out to extremely uncomfortable. “Think nothing of it. I won’t miss it.”

 

Tony did nothing but nod, because he didn’t want to make Victor more uncomfortable. He’d always seemed a little cold, but with the knowledge that he’d been kept from close friendships as a child for fear of kidnapping, it made a little more sense why he was… the way he was. Instead he said, “I was surprised to get your telegram.”

 

“Well, Reed had mentioned it was only a matter of time before the Stanes got their hands on you, so I decided not to let them have any time at all. Besides, the Stanes already believe I’m a shallow idiot,” Victor sniffed. “Just because I wouldn’t allow myself to be bored by the younger Stane, somehow I’m the problem and not him. Americans are quite boorish, aren’t they!”

 

Tony thought of Hank, who willingly sat and listened to Jan rant about fashion and fabric; and Reed, who for all his faults looked at Sue like she hung the sun, moon, and stars; and he thought of Steve, of the letters validating Tony’s concerns, his doubts and fears and loss, and praising his bravery despite those things. “Well… not all of them…”

 

To Jan and Tony’s surprise, Victor coughed and blushed a little. “Well… Maybe not all of them.”

 

Jan leapt on the admission immediately. “Did you find someone?! Are you considering an alpha?!”

 

“Are all Americans gossips?” Victor complained immediately. “Susan asked the same thing. So unrepentantly nosy. It’s none of your business!”

 

“I _am_ an unrepentantly nosy gossip,” Jan told him seriously. “And by the end of this trip, I’ll know all of your deepest, darkest secrets. And I will keep them for you, of course! But I will know them.”

 

“It’s true,” Tony added when Victor looked disbelieving. “One way or another, Jan learns everything. She’s someone you definitely want on your side, though. She recently threatened Reed with a shrimp fork.”

 

Victor looked horrified, but intrigued. Tony could sympathize. Jan was a terror, but she was a terror who cared.

 

Tony jerked when he recalled what Jan had said. “Wait. What do you mean, by the end of this trip? Are—are we actually going to Maine?”

 

“Well, _we_ are. You’re not,” Jan said, smiling mischievously.

 

“I do have an aunt in Maine,” Victor admitted under Tony’s bewildered stare. “However, other than a failing memory and a short temper, she’s not ailing at all. Of course, with her failing memory, I can convince her of most things—like that I arrived with two chaperones instead of one, but the other separated from us when we got off the train to… hmmm… chase after an alpha?”

 

Tony was quiet as he thought about it. He supposed it made sense; it fit the story without being an outright lie, and without giving too much information away. He might not have been _chasing_ an alpha, but… he _was_ definitely on his way to one, no matter the reasons behind it. It really would be the best option.

 

Finally, Tony sighed, frowning. “You’re making me sound like a tart.”

 

“Aunt Agatha enjoys being scandalized, so it wasn’t an accident that I made you sound like a tart,” Victor deadpanned. “Also if she’s scandalized it’ll help her remember it. She’ll even make up her own details, and since they’re made up they’ll all be wrong, and Janice and I will just agree with them.

 

“In the meantime,” he continued before either of them could cut in. “There’s a stop in Manchester long enough for me to send a telegram to your fiance and for you to get onto a train going to Chicago. I’ve already made arrangements for you, and I’ll give you enough money to buy a train ticket wherever you need to go once you’ve gotten a response from you fiance so that he knows to receive you.”

 

“Chicago,” Tony whispered, and couldn’t help hugging himself. He’d been to Chicago once before with his mother, to go shopping, but he didn’t remember much of it. It was kind of terrifying to think about. Then again, most of the last few months had been terrifying to think about. He couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —give up now, just when freedom was within reach.

 

“Thank you again, Victor, for all of your help,” Jan said softly, taking his hand.

 

Victor coughed and looked away from them, cheeks going pink as he snatched his hand back. “Father asked me to visit Aunt Agatha at some point while I was here. It’s not putting me out at all.”

 

And it probably wasn’t, to him, which made it all the more important to them.

 

“C-Can I write the telegram to Steve that you’ll send?” Tony asked after considering the plan again. “So—so he knows it’s genuine, since he knows how I write,” he added when Victor looked at him in confusion. He did not want to throw the other omega’s kindness back into his face by telling him that he didn’t want to send Steve a telegram that was probably more expensive than his house.

 

Victor considered this, then nodded, looking pleased with the thought. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Good thinking, Anthony.”

 

Tony smiled back at him shyly. He thought, in different circumstances, they might have been very good friends. Maybe they still could be, in the future. Maybe once he’d been married to Steve long enough that Obadiah couldn’t contest the marriage, he could chance sending people letters. Maybe Victor wouldn’t mind corresponding with him.

 

“And I’ll buy you a new dress form in Maine, Janice,” Victor added. “I had no idea leaving your own home would be so treacherous.”

 

“Oh, thank you, Victor. I mostly just said that so they’d be gentle with Tony,” Jan said, getting up to check her trunks. “But I really appreciate it anyway! I’ll take you up on that offer, don’t you worry!”

 

“I have no doubts,” Victor drawled. “Anthony, come sit while Janice checks her belongings. I had tea delivered.”

 

Tony accepted a cup of tea and a plate of very dainty cookies that he did not know the name of but tasted good with the bitter tea. “Thank you.” He wasn’t just thanking him for the tea.

 

“They were my mother’s favorite,” Victor offered, apparently the only way he would accept is thanks.

 

Tony sipped at his tea for a few minutes, watching Jan as she fussed and muttered under her breath, expression growing darker and darker with each trunk. Then he turned to Victor and asked, “Why do you call her that, anyway?”

 

Victor’s cup hit its saucer with a clink as he stared at him, bewildered. “Mother?”

 

Tony couldn’t help giggling in amusement. “No,” he said once he’d regained composure, and clarified, “Jan. Why do you call her ‘Janice?’”

 

Jan slammed the last trunk closed and whipped around to give them both a glare. “Yeah, what’s that all about?!”

 

Victor looked back and forth between them, looking so completely out of his depth that it was almost funny, except for the fact that he’d been calling her ‘Janice’ since they’d met. “It’s her name. Why wouldn’t I call her by her name?”

 

Tony snorted his tea out his nose.

 

Jan gave Victor a severe frown. “Except that it’s not my name, Victor.”

 

Victor stared at her for a very, very long time before he said, “But—it is. I remember. You were one of first people who wasn’t intimidated by me, so I remember when we were introduced.”

 

Tony looked back and forth between them as they stared at each other, each of them silently and frantically trying to figure out at what moment it had apparently gone so wrong. He did not know whether it would be appropriate to laugh or not. Here Jan had thought that Victor had been snubbing her the whole time, but really he’d misheard when she was introduced and thought he had her name correctly. Would it be rude to laugh?

 

“But no one else has ever called me ‘Janice,’” Jan said finally. “Surely you must have wondered—”

 

“Everyone called you ‘ _Jan_ ,’” Victor said, looking dismayed. “Never your full name-!”

 

He was going to laugh, Tony decided, regardless of whether it was rude or not.

 

“It’s not funny, Tony!” Jan bellowed as he laughed so hard he almost dropped his teacup. “Stop laughing!”

 

Tony could not stop even if he wanted to.

 

Jan looked like she was seriously considering grabbing one of the decorative pillows off the couch and smothering him with it. “Tony!”

 

“ _Johnny Storm_ ,” Victor gasped suddenly, scandalized, and it actually shocked both Jan and Tony into silence. It was too bad that he was so upset he couldn’t truly appreciate that, because it rarely ever happened.

 

“...What about Johnny?” Jan asked after a brief pause to get her bearings. “Other than he needs to stop teasing me about Hank.”

 

“He’s the one who said your name was ‘Janice!’” Victor exclaimed. “We were dancing and he pointed at you and said that you were Janice! Or, well,” he added, frowning a little in embarrassment. “I couldn’t hear him quite well over the music because he was trying to be quiet, and I was also focusing on him not stepping on my toes again, so I might have misheard him. But I did ask him very specifically if he’d said ‘Janice’ once the dance was over and—and he didn’t correct me!”

 

“Johnny,” Jan growled, gripping her hands into fists. “I’ll remember this.”

 

Tony reached out to grab her arm gently. “Now, he was probably just doing it to tease you—”

 

“Yes,” Jan agreed solemnly. “So I will make him sweat.”

 

“Yes, you do that, Janet,” Victor told her. “On the other hand, I can’t believe I’ve been calling you ‘Janice’ for two years and not one single person has corrected me! They all knew I was talking about you but they never said ‘actually her name is Janet!’” He frowned at Tony severely. “Not even _you_ corrected me, Anthony.”

 

Tony shrugged helplessly. “I mean… by the time I realized you were saying ‘Janice’ instead of ‘Janet’ it had already been a few months. I figured Jan would tell you.”

 

Victor swiveled around to scowl at her. “And why didn’t you?!”

 

Jan scowled back at him. “Don’t throw this back on me! As if I saw you enough to take you aside and tell you that you had my name wrong! You were always surrounded by alphas trying to catch your eye and I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of them. Omegas need to stick together, after all.”

 

Victor opened his mouth, then shut it again, apparently unable to find fault with her reasoning. “Yes,” he offered reluctantly. “I suppose we do.”

 

“And I don’t think either of you will ever understand how thankful I am for that,” Tony added softly. “So thank you both again, from the bottom of my heart, for helping me escape the Stanes and getting me to Steve.”

 

Victor looked embarrassed as he tried to shrug it off. “I’m glad I could help,” he said softly, apparently unable to dodge his thanks anymore.

 

“I’d always go out of my way to help a friend, Tony,” Jan added, and reached out for his hands. “Especially you.”

 

Tony curled his arms around her, trying to soak up as much affection as he could. He was having such fun with them that he’d almost forgotten that there was a possibility he might not get to see them again. He’d already had to say a hurried goodbye to Jarvis and Ana, and he hadn’t gotten to hug them as long as he wanted. Soon he would have to say goodbye to Victor and Jan, too. He hadn’t realized how many farewells he’d have to give just to be able to greet Steve. He wished he’d had more time.

 

Jan leaned her cheek against the top of his head and gave him an extra tight squeeze, as if knowing he wanted the comfort. Tony couldn’t help but despair a little. What would he do without Jan?

 

Well, he’d soon learn, he decided. And he’d do his best to make Jan proud. Jan, and everyone else who had loved and helped him make his way to safety.

 

.-.-.-.

  
**STEVE ROGERS  
HAD TO LEAVE HOME SUDDENLY STOP AM MAKING WAY TO CHICAGO STOP CAN I COME TO YOU NOW STOP AWAITING RESPONSE STOP**


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